Freaks and Geeks
by Hello Moto
Summary: Au Non Magic. Draco Malfoy was born deaf, and now he is being forced to go to a boarding school in New England for the first time. Things aren't going his way. Then he meets Harry Potter, a boy with more than his fair share of secrets.
1. Chapter 1

_Au Non Magic. Draco Malfoy was born deaf, and now he is being forced to go to a boarding school in New England for the first time. Things aren't going his way. Then he meets Harry Potter, a boy with more than his fair share of secrets._

Sign is in bold.

Disclaimer-I own nothing.

BIG thanks Alter and Empathic Siren for being my wonderful and wise betas!

Freaks and Geeks

Chapter 1

What I'm about to tell you isn't the usual love story; in fact, it's more than a little fucked up in places. I don't really believe in God or destiny. People have been trying to sell me this bullshit about their being a "plan" or "reason" since I was a kid, but I never put faith into it. Life just kind of happens, and not always in the way you want it to. That's kind of how we were. If I would have had my way, I might not have ever met him, but I don't regret it now. There might not be a "reason" for it, but I believe that it was a good thing that I met Harry Potter.

I was born deaf. It's impossible for me to say whether I would want to change that if I could. All my life, I have lived in a world without knowing what sound really is. Sure, I know the basic idea behind it, but I can't understand what words like "booming," or "musical" are. I've watched my mother's words, but I've never actually heard her voice. When I was born, my parents didn't exactly know what to do with me. My father wasn't sure I could live up to the Malfoy name. He saw me as something less than a person right from the beginning, but that is generally the way my father is.

A number of experts filled my early life. I was taught by the best speech pathologists and teachers of deaf sine I can remember. My parents were big on oral education, but they did acknowledge that I needed sign as well. Most of my education came from private tutors at my home, but I did attend a school for the deaf for a while from the time I was six to the time I was about eight. I think I was happiest there. It was there that I made real friends for the first time, and it was there that I realized I wasn't the lowly creature my father thought I was. I'm not really sure why he took me out of there. He did tell me that I wasn't learning enough to compete with "normal" children, but I'm not certain that was all of it. I think that about that time he realized I was the only child he was getting from my mother and he was determined to groom the next Malfoy heir. Back at home, I kept a much heavier academic load, and I was forced into more hours of speech therapy. Both seemed to please my father.

My father was a rather well known businessman. He had inherited a brokerage firm from my grandfather. Lucius Malfoy's name was always associated with ruthlessness and wealth. His marriage to my mother, Narcissa Black, made all of the society pages in New York. They were the picture of refinement and old money sophistication. That was why I was a thorn in my father's side.

He never really did learn to sign all that well. It was a sign of weakness, he thought. It was no pleasure to him to be told that even though my speech was amazingly clear, it would always be painfully obvious that I was deaf. He ignored that fact, though, and continued to push at me. When I was twelve, he forbade me to ever sign in his presence again. The lucky part about that was that I was rarely ever in my father's presence. He was always staying in the penthouse in the city, and mom and I lived on our country estate about an hour away.

Mom and I were very close. She gave me anything I ever asked for, and never did hold to any of my father's beliefs about signing. We would sit in the evenings and talk for hours. She knew how I felt about be home schooled, and always told me to do my best. That did not mean that she didn't care what I thought, but she catered to whatever my father wanted.

When I was fifteen, my world was turned upside down again. My father came home for a weekend in July. That day I had been sitting in my at my window staring out at the New England country side that I loved so much, when I saw an unwelcome sight. I was never happy to see his black Bentley pull up the drive, but I knew there would be hell to pay if I didn't go down to meet him. My mother was uneasy when I reached the bottom of the stairs.

She didn't raise her hands to tell me, "Draco, your father wishes to speak to you in the study."

It wasn't hard for me to read her lips at all. I had mastered the art over the years, just as I had learned to speak clearly. I nodded, and followed her to my father's office.

He was frowning at something he was being told over the phone, and barely acknowledged us until he hang it up. "Draco," he said with a smile.

"I'm glad you're home, father," I greeted him carefully enunciating each word.

"Sit down. I have good news for you." Those words made me leary, but I sat down casting only the slightest glance at my mother who was biting her lip. None of this was comforting. "I have recently been in touch with the headmaster of my old boarding school," he began. "He tells me that it is not too late for you to join in with the other students your age, and that your disability won't be a problem. You will be going to Hogwarts this fall. Doesn't that please you?"

I swallowed my anger, because I knew that it wouldn't matter. He never did care what pleased me. "Yes," I agreed without much emotion.

"Good. The term doesn't start for another five weeks, and that is plenty of time to get you ready for it. Your mother will take you to get fitted for your new uniforms later this week."

At that point, I was unceremoniously dismissed and he answered another phone call.

I ran to the sanctuary of my room, and turned on my computer. Breathing a sigh of relief, I noticed that my best friend, Blaise, was online.

Dragonrider: Hi.

ZanZen: Hey. What's up?

Dragonrider: My dad is an asshole.

ZanZen: What else is new?

Dragonrider: He's making me go to Hogwarts this year.

ZanZen: What's wrong with that? I thought you didn't like being home schooled?

Dragonrider: I don't! But I don't want to go THERE!

ZanZen: Why not? I go THERE and THERE isn't that bad.

I sighed and rolled my eyes at the screen. He just didn't get it. I typed furiously.

Dragonrider: Of course, you wouldn't think it's that bad. You can hear! And you know people there.

ZanZen: Not everyone cares that you're deaf. Fuck, you're self-absorbed. And it's not like I can't introduce you to people. Get over it.

Dragonrider: You're a fucking asshole!

ZanZen: You seem to be having problems with stating the obvious today.

Dragonrider: Well, you're coming with me to get my stuff.

ZanZen: Just don't bitch all day

Dragonrider: Fine. I'll talk to you tomorrow.

ZanZen: Later.

In hindsight, I probably shouldn't have gone to Blaise for sympathy. He was one of the last people who would ever let me feel sorry for myself. We had met when we were ten, and had been best friends ever since I taught him how to insult people in sign language. Never once did he treat me like I was any different from anyone else. I shouldn't have expected him to start then.

A week later, my mother and I met Blaise in New York City . He met us at the door of his town house with a big smile on his face. His dark curls were falling over his forehead, and he looked like he had just crawled out of bed. He signed hello to me and said something I didn't pay much attention to my mother. I was still sulking.

My mother kissed my cheek. **I'm going to stay and have lunch with Melinda. You boys be good, and don't be late to your appointment at the tailor's.**  
I nodded.

In the car, I looked out the window doing my best to ignore Blaise. I could tell that he had turned on some music by the harsh thumping of the base. Our driver was probably having a fit.

He touched my shoulder. **Don't be an ass.**  
**Who's being an ass?** I signed angrily. **I don't want to go! Is that so hard to understand?**

**It's not going to be that bad. Trust me. Do you know what house you'll be in?** he asked.  
Hogwarts had an odd history. It was founded by four different people and they each had a dorm house named after them: Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, Gryffindor, and Slytherin. Students were sorted into houses by personality and by family. My father had been a Slytherin, so I had been automatically put in there. Luckily, Blaise was also Slytherin.

**We can share a room,** he said trying to make me feel better.

The tailor's was an upscale place that did most of its business with Hogwarts alumni. Blaise was measured first, and I sat in the waiting room. I had no sooner found a seat than I saw a boy about my age come out of the dressing room. His hair was as black as night, and he had glasses on though he kept his eyes on the floor at all times. What really confused me was that he was wearing black jeans and an oversized long sleeved black shirt that fell past his fingertips even though it was near ninety out still. He didn't look my way, and I shifted my attention to a magazine.

When Blaise came back, I followed the scrawny, little man back, and stood on the platform. I saw his lips move slightly, but he turned his head before I could make anything out. "You'll have to look at me when you talk. I'm deaf," I explained with narrowed eyes. I hated explaining that. It always made me feel awkward.

He looked up at me sheepishly. "Lift your arms, please," he said slowly.

By the time lunch came around, Blaise and I both had almost everything we needed, and our uniforms would be shipped to the school. The little outdoor café we had chosen was one of my usual haunts when I came into the city. Blaise sat across from me toying with his French fries as he watched people passing by. I noticed that his eyes especially followed the good-looking guys. I wasn't stupid enough to not have realized that he was gay. That was something that we never talked about, though I think we both knew. Coming out didn't seem all that plausible for either of us. My father would never have it. God only knows what he would do to me. Blaise's family would probably just accept it, but he was far too concerned with keeping up the cool image at school. I knew how he was.

The last days of my summer went by too quickly for me. Every time I saw my father, he would tell me to "make him proud." I knew that what he was really telling me was that this was my last chance to not be a fuck up in his eyes.

He drove me to the train station himself in his favorite sports car. Excitement was clearly written all over his face…or rather what could pass for excitement given that it was my father. The train ride was more ceremonial than anything. Students and parents made a show of mingling on the platform before going off to school. Several people came up to shake my father's hand, and I was introduced to a number of his old schoolmates. One of them turned out to the be the head of my house.

Severus Snape was a tall man with black eyes and hair. He looked at me without much interest when my father introduced us. He raised his hands. **How are you?**

Beside me, my father said something. Most likely he told Snape that there was no need for that. He wouldn't want to point out my "disability" to any of his old friends.

"I'm very well, thank you," I said politely.

I was relieved to be on the train when the time came. Blaise and I sat together. He pointed out all of the who's who of the school to me as they passed our seats. Mostly, our section of the train was filled by fellow Slytherins. I noted a rather moronic looking pair in front of us that Blaise identified as Crabbe and Goyle. Pansy Parkinson was a dark haired girl who looked more butch than either of us. Blaise made a particular note to point out a red haired boy at the front of the train. **Ron Weasley,** he signed scowling. **He's the biggest asshole in the school. Stay away from him. He's one of like ten kids. His dad works for the government or something like that, but they don't have much money.**

The term "don't have much money" was of course relative at Hogwarts. Almost everyone at the school came from extreme wealth. There were a few exceptions however. Hermione Granger was a frizzy haired girl who was there on a scholarship. According to Blaise, she was a know it all. The scholarship students were pretty much branded at Hogwarts. It had been a great debate on whether to allow them or not, but the headmaster, Albus Dumbledore had managed to get them in. It was a big deal to the student body who had money and who didn't.

Lastly, Blaise pointed out a familiar form. The same boy that I had seen at the tailor's got on the train. His attire hadn't changed much save the color of his shirt. For a moment, he looked right at me and I saw how startlingly green his eyes were. I also noticed a slight lightning bolt shaped scar on his forehead. **Harry Potter,** Blaise spelled out. **He's got a lot of rumors about him. **

**Why?** I asked.

**His parents were millionaires. Harry's probably the richest kid in the school. His dad owned an oil company. Anyway, his parents were killed in a helicopter crash. He grew up in his relatives' house, but the only want him for the money. Some people say they beat him. His Godfather petitioned the court for custody, but he has a rather wild history, and they wouldn't give it to him. **

Does he always dress like that?

Blaise shrugged. **I never really noticed. I don't talk to him. No one really does, but Weasley and Granger.**

That night we got settled into our houses. I did indeed share a room with Blaise. Most of my housemates seemed alright as far as I could tell. They ignored me mostly, which was fine. I was asked to go to the headmaster's office just before dinner. Professor Snape came to show me the way.

I liked him from the moment he first signed to me, and in the hallway I decided to ask him a few questions. **How is that you know sign?**

He shrugged plainly. **Someone I know.**

I nodded. **Why does he want to see me?**

**Because you need to meet your interpreter, though I did tell her not to bother coming to my class. Now, Draco, you shall receive no extra help from me. If you don't perform to expectations, I will fail you. **

Fair enough.

We found Albus Dumbledore standing by a birdcage talking to his parrot. He smiled broadly at us and motioned for me to sit. "That will be all," he said to Snape. Dumbledore was an old, frail looking man with wire-rimmed glasses. His withered hand offered me a dish full of lemon drops.

I shook my head. "No thank you, sir."

"Your father tells me that you read lips perfectly well," he said taking a seat behind his desk.

"I do," I replied. I feared what my father had told him.

Dumbledore nodded. "Very good." He glanced at his watch. "It seems that she is late, so I will get to other matters. You are being exempt from Latin and French classes, but you will be taking extra social sciences in their place. Does that seem fair to you?"

"It does."

His attention shifted to the doorway, and I turned to face a pink-haired young woman with a pixie cut and a nose ring. **"Sorry, I'm late," she signed and spoke at the same time. "I just got here and didn't have time to change."**

I raised my eyebrows at her. She was NOT what I had expected.

**Nymphadora Tonks,** she spelled. **I'll be following you to classes.**

**Draco Malfoy**, I returned.

Tonks and I had a brief conversation before Dumbledore sent me out to meet my housemates to go to dinner.

The opening dinner turned out to be a big deal at Hogwarts. Sixth graders and new students were officially sorted into their houses, and Dumbledore gave a speech. Blaise told me that Dumbledore's speeches never made much sense, and I snickered at that. I was half way down the hall when…WHAM!

I was knocked flat on my ass. Looking up I saw, Ron Weasley. His lips were moving to fast for me to understand and I just sat there for a moment. Finally, he said. "What are you…stupid? Why don't you pay attention? Aren't you going to say anything, freak?"

He hauled me up by my collar and I was about to say something smart assed, when Granger stepped in. Her back was to me, but I saw Ron's face turn as red as his hair, and I read the word "DEAF?" on his lips.

**"I am deaf!"** I said indignantly, signing for emphasis.**"But at least, I'm not a dickhead like you!"** He lifted his hand to hit me, but Granger was once again in the middle. I was horrified that she'd think I need her, and I added. **"And I don't need help from charity cases like you!"**

At that point, she stepped aside to let him hit me, but someone else stepped in. Severus Snaped glared dangerously at us both. His eyes held on Weasley. "There will be no trouble from you this year, do you understand? If you don't, I will take pleasure in making your life miserable. Get to the Great Hall now."

I stood there and waited for my turn at punishment, but all he did was look at me for a moment. **I will warn you only once to stay away from him.**

On my very first day at the school, I had made an enemy that would dog me for the rest of my years there. Despite all of Blaise's claims, I hated it at Hogwarts already, and things would get much worse before they would get better.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

My first day at Hogwart had only a few minor mishaps. I was late for my first class, because I got lost trying to figure out which stupid hall was which. By the time I made it in, the entire class was sitting staring at me as I sheepishly took the seat in the front by Tonks. I was shocked to see that the nose ring was gone and her hair had been dyed black.

**Nice, **she told me with only the slightest twitch of her lips.

The professor came up to me with a frown on her matronly lips. Professor McGonagall was the Algebra teacher at Hogwarts, as well as the head of Gryffindor. Blaise had told me that she was tough, but fair. I knew I was in for it. She began to speak and Tonks signed it for her. **This is not the way to start off, Mr. Malfoy. I will let it go this once being that you are new, but next time I will deduct house points. **

"Yes, ma'am," I said embarrassed. Looking across the room I could see Weasley smirking at me. Potter was also looking at me, but I didn't see any malice in those green eyes. In fact, there wasn't any emotion at all.

Class went by quickly. I was miles ahead of the rest of my grade, so I wasn't all that worried about the course work. Out in the hall, I finally asked, **What's with the hair?**

Tonks rolled her eyes. **I'm being professional, can't you tell? I'm doing this for you, brat, so you'd better appreciate it.**

I laughed.

The next few classes were a breeze. It seemed I could slack off a bit for the first term. After lunch in the great hall, I said goodbye to Tonks for the day. **I wouldn't let you on your own, but I know for a fact Snape is fluent in ASL, **she told me.

**You know him outside of school?'**

She nodded. **The person who taught Snape sign is the same person who encouraged me to be an interpreter.**

**Who do I smack for that?**

She glared at me. **Maybe I will abandon you.**

I laughed, but stopped when I felt people staring at us. Glancing around, I could see quite a few students staring at us and whispering. Weasley was sitting at the Gryffindor table next to ours and his group all seemed to be listening intently to whatever the jackass said….everyone but Potter. Even from where I was sitting, I could catch the words "Deaf dumb freak….only here because of his dad."

Potter raised his head and said something, but I didn't know what. Probably just talking more shit about me, I thought. My blood ran cold with rage. That day I decided that I hated all of them—the whole fucking house.

I went on to chemistry class with Snape on my own, and sat in the front dead center so I could get the best view. The front half of the room was filled with desks slid side by side, and the back had a full lab set up. Students filtered in looking none too happy to be there. Most of them were either Slytherin or Gryffindor. I watched Potter and Granger take seats in the back through narrowed eyes. I snorted when I noticed how he still looked a mess even in his uniform. Despite being tailored, his sleeves still hung over his fingertips. I was so busy glaring at them that I almost didn't notice Blaise sit down beside me.

**How's it going? **he asked. I told him about my day so far, and he looked rather crestfallen when I told him that Snape understood sign. **I was hoping you could help me out in here, but oh well... And I did warn you about Ron. **

**I know. You forgot to put Potter on that list too.**

His eyebrows shot up. **Potter? He doesn't say enough to be an ass. **

**If he hangs out with Weasley, he has to be a dick. **

**Maybe**. Blaise turned and I followed his gaze to the door now filled with Snape's dark form.

Class began with Snape listing off of all the major topics we would be covering over the year. It was obvious that this would not be an easy subject. His work load was twice what most other teachers demanded. He dug right in and began with chemical bonding on the smart board. It didn't take long for someone to get on Snape's bad side and that someone was Harry Potter.

I wasn't quite sure what he had done wrong because Snape had abruptly stopped signing, and stalked over to Potter's desk. From the angle I was at, I couldn't see his mouth, but I did see him take a note book away from Potter. I couldn't help, but be glad to see that Snape didn't let those three get away with anything. It was one more reason why I liked him so much.

Over the next few weeks, I fell into a comfortable routine. My classes were pretty much what I had expected them to be, and I was beginning to get to know my fellow Slytherins. I was surprised to find how deep the rivalry between houses really was. It fueled my fire to know that I had friends who also hated Gryffindor house, though most of their hatred was competition related. Hogwarts did not have sports teams competing with other schools; instead, each house had its own sports teams. Hockey was the most popular, and Gryffindor had narrowly beaten Slytherin at last year's championship.

That also gave me an idea. Being home schooled, I'd never really played organized sports. I knew how to play hockey, and I was an excellent skater. It only seemed natural that I would try out for the Slytherin team. With tryouts in early November, I was absolutely determined to make the team. Blaise laughed at my obsession. He told me that I was almost guaranteed a spot on the team, so I should quit worrying about it. Still, I would wait until after dinner and go lace up my skates.

Hogwarts maintained the rink year round even though most students didn't visit it until later in the year. Normally, it was deserted, and that suited me just fine. I loved the chill in the air, and the feeling of gliding across the ice without thinking about anything. Skating was one of the very few things I shared with my father. He had taken me out to the pond by our house and taught me when I was a little kid. It was the first and only time I can ever remember my father telling me that he was proud of me. Maybe that's why it was so important.

I was in for my usual evening skate, when I noticed another figure on the ice. Harry Potter was taking graceful strides across the rink. Frowning, I watched him loop around. He had no right to invade my space. I laced up and joined him on the ice. He nodded to me, but didn't say anything. Recently my fights with Weasley had simmered down to a few insults thrown in the hall. I had yet to actually say anything to Potter at all, but he was always there with Ron like a good little lap dog. My frustration grew as I began making my way around the rink.

I hadn't intended to race him, but before I knew it, I was moving as fast as I could beside him and it was certain that neither of us was going to slow down. He was good, there was no denying that, but I wanted to beat him. I wanted to show him that I was better than him or Weasley. My chest began to tighten as we went faster and faster for longer and longer. There was never more than a few feet between us. Some laps he led, while others I managed to pull ahead. We were almost dead even until I began to feel my body give out. Sweat was rolling off me and my sides were aching, but the anger I felt watching him whiz by me outweighed all of that. I collapsed against the wall, and he skated back toward me. I had thought that he had come to gloat, but he simply asked: "Are you ok?"

"Fine, Potter. Leave me the fuck alone," I snapped. My pride was too strong to take his sympathy.

He nodded and skated off.

That night only made me work harder. I had to beat him. I e-mailed my father asking for new hockey gear, and he sent it with a note attached telling me to work hard. In other words, "don't make me look bad."

By the morning of tryouts, I was ready. I was so on edge that I woke before my "alarm" went off. Blaise and I had a system. Rather than using one of the alarm clocks that made the lights blink, he would wake me, and go back to sleep. Blaise was still out cold at six AM that morning. He had refused to go out for any of the sports. I dressed as quickly as I could being gentle with the drawers so they wouldn't slam and wake him up.

It was a Saturday, and the school was still mostly asleep. Only those of us trying out for the team were in the great hall for breakfast. I ate my cold cereal and looked at the competition I would have. I was one of only four freshman trying out. Generally, only sophomores, juniors, and seniors made the team roster, and the freshman that did make it rarely played. I had grilled Pansy for information, and found out that there were only five open spots total on the team after last years players graduated. The team was coed and she was also trying out, though she was almost certain she wouldn't make it.

It seemed like it took forever for the event to get underway. Tonks had met me at the rink to make sure I knew what the directions of each drill were. Today was the one day I didn't want to misread something someone said and look like an ass. The first few exercises were easy enough. I was by far the fastest skater in my group, and it didn't look like too many people were close to my skill. I did fairly well with the passing and shooting drill. When all was said and done, I was fairly confident, but I still sat in the stands with butterflies in my stomach.

It took over an hour for them to finally post the names on the locker room door. Everyone crowded around and I pushed my way to the front. My heart sank when I got to the bottom of the list and saw my name under "fist alternate." I clenched my jaw and walked over to the Gryffindor list that had been posted after their tryouts the day before. Harry Potter was at the top of the list, and I swore silently. All of my work had been for nothing.

After that, I was a little more bitter about my hatred of Harry. I took great delight in every detention he got from Snape, and even sought out ways to get him in trouble. I would see the white of a note pass between them and be sure to look right at them so Snape would follow my gaze back to him. Oh, it didn't win me any real friends, but I enjoyed it. Then I began taking things a little farther. I would slam into him intentionally in the hall, and say some caustic remark to him. What annoyed the fuck out of me was that he never so much as said one single word to any of it. I even took to taking pot shots at his friends. They would tell me off, but it still didn't get any reaction from Potter.

The way I saw it, Potter had it easy. He was the darling of most of the teachers. Everyone kept saying that he was the youngest boy to start as the center of the hockey team since his father. Teachers praised him for being just as smart as his mother. Even Dumbledore was sickeningly attached to him. Him and his little "golden trio" in Gryffindor house ruled the fucking school in a way. He might not say or do much to get people's attention, but he certainly had it. How could he not when he was so fucking perfect? He even led Gryffindor to sweeping wins on the ice. He deserved what I did to him, I told myself. I kept hounding his every step. Things just kept building as I taunted him more and more, and then the dam finally broke.

It was the weekend before Christmas, and I was carrying my luggage down out of my room when I saw Potter and Granger standing in the hall. Both had dressed in street clothes for the trip home, and Granger's skirt was too short. "You like cheap whores, don't you Potter? Do they remind you of your mother?" I called out to them.

I barely had time to blink before he had me pinned to the wall. His hands were like steel around my neck. He punched me once in the face and I felt blood trickle out of the corner of my mouth. Pushing him back, I took a swing at him and missed. Knocking me back, he had a vice grip on my shoulders. "I'll say this slowly, so I know you understand. I don't want you EVER to say another word about Hermione or any of my friends, and if you ever say a word about my mother again I will smash your god damned face in." I could see the burning animosity in his eyes.

I spat at him, and kicked him in the knee. He dropped down to the ground, and I was about to hit him again, when I was lifted back. Trashing and screaming, I watched as Professor McGonagall helped Harry up. Only then did I realize who had a hold of me.

Snape sat me down and signed angrily, **Are you a complete moron? Do you want to be expelled? Both of you are going to see the headmaster, but first let's get you cleaned up. **

Not a word was said or signed on the entire trip to the infirmary. Madame Pompfrey patched us up, albeit roughly—she had no sympathy for fighters—and we were taken to see Dumbledore.

Tonks was waiting for me there, and neither she nor Dumbledore looked very happy. **I'll speak to you first, Draco, **she signed for the headmaster.

I swallowed hard.

**I don't know what either of you boys were thinking. Severus heard you call Harry's friend and his mother foul names before he hit you. If that is the case, I'm afraid you deserved to be hit. Insulting his dead mother was a low trick. Whatever your quarrel with Harry, that was uncalled for, but that does not excuse his actions. You will both have severe punishment awaiting you after the holidays. Now, go and wait for the bus to the train station with the others.**

Something about his words rang true: insulting his mother had been a terrible thing to do, and I was sorry for it. Though I do admit, some of my regret was directly tied to getting my ass kicked. **What about Harry?**

**You will both be punished, and I think it only fair that he has the same reprieve that you do over the holidays. You will serve your detentions together when you return.**

"**He's not leaving?" **I asked.

Dumbledore shook his head, and I could see a bit of sadness in his eyes. **Go on with you. **

I glanced at Harry as I walked by him. He had his head leaned against he wall, and he looked as though he were about to cry. As soon as he saw me though, his head snapped up, and the emotionless gaze was back in place. Harry's pride was every bit as strong as my own…if not more so.

Tonks and I walked back down the hall together, and I knew that I was in for it from her. **"**You little rat bastard!" she said without signing. **How could you be such a fucking heartless dick? **

**I made a mistake, **I signed slowly.

**A mistake? You went after him deliberately! I'm with you all day. I see what you do all day. You think I don't know that you're baiting him? Why him? I could understand it if you were going for Weasley, but Harry isn't like that. How….** Her hands trembled and I could tell she was beyond any words at all right then. When she did sign, she formed her words carefully. **You may have a new interpreter when you get back. I don't know if I want to be here any more.**

THAT got me. Over the last few months, I had come to really like her. Her sense of humor was one of the few things that made this place standable. **Please, don't go. I'm sorry. I really am. I…I..I just get tired of seeing him have it easy all the time.**

Her eyes were wide. **You don't know anything. Look as someone who knows the whole fucking circle of Malfoys, Blacks, and Potters, I know enough about you both to say that you should give him break.**

Now it was my turn for confusion. **How do you know our families?**

**My mother's maiden name was Black, just like yours. Harry's godfather is Sirius Black. Making sense now? Sirius, your mother, and I are all cousins. Though no one wants to own up to that one. Sirius and I are the family outcasts. Sirius was like and older brother to me growing up and I knew the Potters, ok? **

**Why didn't you tell me we are cousins?**

She rolled her eyes. **We might as well not be. You're my mom was disowned for marrying a cop, and not a broker. Sirius was cut off for being gay.**

I rubbed my temple trying to will away the headache the day was giving me. **Why didn't you say anything before I got my ass kicked?**

**Because I figured you get over whatever your problem was. I assumed that you were more intelligent than this, but that's what happens when you assume something.**

I groaned. **I really am sorry, but that doesn't mean I want Potter for a friend.**

She glared at me. **Just don't do anything stupid again.**


	3. Chapter 3

Note- This story is/was posted on another site, but that site has been having problems and I have moved this story here despite some misgivings that I have. If it seems like I am moving really quick with my posts, that is because these were already written, betaed and posted on TSS. I have one more chapter after this one to post, and then I will be slowing down.

I do appreciate all of the reviews I've been getting for this story. The deaf! Draco in this story is based on a very good friend of mine, and that is where all of my little insights come from. I am not deaf, but I do sign.

Thanks to Empathic Siren and to Alter for betaing this for me!

Chapter 3

Christmas was one of coldest times of my life, and I'm not talking about the weather. I was only too happy to go back to school. My father wasn't shy about showing his disapproval. I would make the hockey team next year, and I would never get in trouble at school again; he made sure I knew that for a fact. After dealing with him for two weeks, it was a relief to be back in my dorm.

Blaise and Pansy were still trying to make sense of exactly why I had gone after Potter, and at about that time, so was I. All of my excuses didn't seem to hold water to me anymore.

"**Do you even know what your punishment is yet?" **Blaise asked.

I shook my head. **"Dumbledore will probably want to see me today or tomorrow."**

"Good luck," Pansy told me. "Just hope you're not spending your detentions with Filch.

The school's janitor had a nasty mean streak that everyone feared. You knew you were in trouble if you had your detention with him. He was almost as feared as Snape—not that I feared Snape. **"I'm just going to have to wait and see," **I said blandly.

As it turned out, I didn't have to wait long. Professor Snape came to get me just before dinner that evening, and I was once again sitting opposite Dumbledore with Tonks putting my judgment into sign.

**You'll be spending every Saturday evening for the next month cleaning. Professor Snape and Professor McGonagall will take turns supervising you. Harry has already been informed of this. Is there anything you would care to say?**

I shook my head.

**You may go back to your house. **

Once again, history was repeating and Tonks and I were alone in the hall.

**Are you still mad at me? **I asked cautiously.

**Not really, **she signed back, but she didn't look the same. Something was out of place about her.

**What's the matter?**

**Just some family problems.** She didn't say anything else about it and I let things go at that.**Did you get your new schedule for the semester?**

I nodded, and gave her an impish grin. **Coming to gym class with me?**

She rolled her eyes. **I'll be there, but you are on your own with that. **

My first few days back at school were nothing special. More chemistry homework that monopolized my time, and other classes I barely had to stay awake for. Gym class, however, turned out to be a pain in the ass. The coach signaled the start and end of everything with a whistle and I had to watch the others to tell when drills were over. Also, I had the class with Potter. Despite my live and let live policy with him of late, it annoyed me that he came late to class and was excused early. In my opinion, it was one more way everyone favored Potter. The coach couldn't give me a visual signal to start or stop my laps, but he could let Harry come and go without a care as to time.

The first Saturday came around and I met Snape in the great hall wearing old clothes to work in. I wasn't very happy to be there, but I knew that I'd just have to live with it. Potter came just after I did in his signature oversized clothes. We were led to the door of an abandoned storeroom in the basement, and Snape gave us gloves and cleaning supplies. **"I will be back to check your progress in three hours."**

I sighed and opened the door. As soon as I did, my eyes got large. The room was a disaster. It was filled with old furniture, props from plays staged years ago, outdated books, and broken chairs. All of it was coved in inches of dust and grime. I just stood there staring. I didn't know where to even start. Harry pushed by me, and took charge.

"Let's separate what can be saved and what needs thrown away," he said taking up his gloves. I watched as he began to put them over top of his sleeves.

"Aren't you even going to roll up your sleeves?" I asked caustically. I was more than a little annoyed that he would order me around like a servant.

He shrugged. "We should get to work."

I only took his commands because I knew that he was right. Our punishment would be worse if we didn't get this done. We began to move the old furniture and put what was salvageable into piles. Harry was much stronger than I was, and seemed to take the heavier pieces without being asked.

I was about to ask for some help with an end table, when I turned to see him staring at the wall. "What are you doing? Snape will be here soon."

He motioned for me to come look, and I sighed as he went right back to it. I could see what he was so intent on. There was a slight ridge in wallpaper in the shape of a door. Pulling off his gloves, he ran his fingers over a ridge in the wall and began tearing at the paper. "Help me get this open."

"How do you know we SHOULD open it?" I asked, but began working at it along side him.

Finally, the door came open and the air was filled with dust. I coughed. My eyes soon blinked away enough dirt for me to see the room that we had opened. It was small, not much more than a broom closet, but it had a couch and little table. Old dust covered bottles and faded porno magazines were strewn about. I picked one up and read the date on it: May 1978. Looking up at Harry, I watched him trace over a marking carved in the wood paneled wall. "SS loves RL." It looked like someone else had put a vicious slash trough it.

"What is this place?" I asked.

Harry looked at me for a long moment before saying anything. "Salazar Slytherin was the architect who built this place in the late eighteen hundreds. That's where your house name comes from," he added. "He was always paranoid for some reason, and incorporated dozens of secret rooms into the school."

I snorted. "Someone has been in here more recently than that," I said holding up one of the magazines.

He shrugged. "Somebody was using it as a hideout. It's not a bad place for it either."

Suddenly, I noticed a note sitting on the table. I opened it and began to read.

_Congratulations. You have found the Room of Requirement. This place requires alcohol, pornos, and ill intents. Use it well, as we have. If you are truly of a devious nature, we have hidden a little something extra here for you, but that is for you to discover. _

_Best wishes,_

_The Marauders _

_Prongs, Padfoot, Moony, and Wormtail_

I handed it to Harry and watched as he read it. "What do you think?"

There was an unreadable look to his eyes. "I think I like this place a lot."

"So do I," I agreed. "I promise I won't tell anyone if you don't."

He nodded.

We hurried back out and shut up the wall the best we could by pushing an old black board against it. Time had flown by and we had to be sure that we'd made enough progress to please Snape. We scrubbed and dusted for all we were worth, but we hadn't even make a dent in the mess by the time he got he returned. I watched as he looked over the room, pausing at the black board. For a second, I though we were caught, but he simply moved on. He turned back to us and sneered. **"It seems it will take more than one week to clean up this room. Go back to your houses."**

I wanted so badly to wake Blaise and tell him about the room, but I didn't. I went to sleep that night without saying a word. It was oddly exciting to know something that no one else did—well, no one but Harry. I was actually looking forward to my next detention. Perhaps we could take a few minutes to clean up in there a bit.

The week in between detentions seemed interminable. I was even more annoyed than usual with my easy classes. My eyes would focus on Tonks and then begin to drift. It was Thursday and I was sitting in McGonagall's class, when I actually did fall all the way to sleep. I had just felt a bit tired, and then the next thing I knew there was a WHOOSH of air beside my ear. My head snapped up and I stared at her feeling the blood rise to my cheeks. She was still holding the ruler in her hand, and she was glaring at me through her glasses.

I lost ten points for my house and ended up staying after class. I was disgusted with myself as I walked to gym class knowing I was already late. The locker room had already been abandoned when I got there to change. I walked back to where my locker was and saw something move.

Standing still for a moment, I watched a familiar form come into view. Potter was standing with his back to me in his boxers, and I felt my stomach knot at what I saw. His entire back and arms were covered in a mass of scar tissue. The puckered and discolored flesh disappeared into his shorts and around his rib cage. I must have gasped because he turned and locked his green eyes on me. All I could do was stare. His chest was also horrifically scarred. I could see of tears in his eyes even though he quickly blinked them away. With his back straight as an arrow, he dressed, and left me alone in the locker room. I had found out his secret.

Everything that I had been told about him fell into place. The helicopter crash, the long sleeves, his quietness, why everyone was so pissed at me for thinking he was spoiled—everything made sense. I had been an idiot. I went around for the rest of the day with a lump of regret lodged in my throat. More than anything I wanted to apologize, but I wouldn't get my chance until our next detention.

Snape was waiting for me in the great hall that day, but Harry was nowhere to be seen. **Potter thinks he's skipping tonight, but I assure you that I WILL find him, and he will be punished.**

I nodded and went along with him to the storeroom. When we opened the door, Harry was already there and hard at work. Beside me, Snape sneered, before turning on his heel.

"I thought you weren't coming," I said stiffly.

He shrugged and went back to work.

"Harry…."

"What? I don't need you to tell me what a freak I am. Let's just get this done and get out of here," he snapped.

I learned to read people at an early age. I don't have to hear someone's voice to know what they are feeling. Harry's eyes were practically burning with pain and frustration, and I knew that this was about much more than me seeing his scars. The kind of emotion that was etched into his face that night was not petty embarrassment. It was the kind of insecurity and self-loathing that was formed over years. Seeing his scars may have been the catalyst that brought it out, but it wasn't what really caused all of this. "You're not a freak, Harry."

"SHUT UP!" I could see the veins popping in his neck as he screamed at me.

"You're not a freak!" I hoped that I sounded just as loud and sure as he was. He lunged at me, but just stood there. I don't think even he knew what he wanted to do, but there were tears falling down his cheeks. "You're not. What I saw there doesn't matter to me."

He sank down against the wall, and wiped his face on his sleeve. I sat down beside him. I didn't ask about the scars, but I think he knew I eventually would. We sat there for what seemed like forever. I could see his inner battle, deciding whether to tell me or not. He must have decided that it was better to tell me the truth than have me come to my own conclusions.

"I was in the helicopter with my parents when it crashed," he began. "It started to go down right after it took off, and my mother tried to shield me. That's why my face isn't all scarred too, except for this," he said pointing the scar on his forehead.

"That doesn't make you a freak, Harry."

Harry leaned his head back against the wall. "We'd better hurry. I was hoping we could do some work in there too, if we had time," he said finally.

We worked harder that night than we had before. Whether it was the aftermath of Harry's outburst or the lure of the Room of Requirement, it didn't matter. Our muscles ached as we went over every inch of the storeroom. I looked at my watch and we had only an hour to devote to our hideout before Snape returned. That only left enough time to stack the old magazines and throw away the bottles. We found a number of odds and ends in the room, including a hockey puck, a pocket knife, an old copy of_ The Great Gatsby_, and an IOU for a bottle of whiskey, but nothing that could be the "something extra" the note had talked about.

That night, when we shut up the room, we decided to sneak back next Wednesday after Harry's hockey practice. Snape was none the wiser to our scheming. "**Good work. There will be more for you to do next week in other parts of the school." **

Despite everything, Harry and I didn't speak at all outside of the room. We would pass in the halls without acknowledging each other's existence. Life went on as usual. Every week though, we would meet in the room and do this or that to fix the place up. The strange part was that we never discussed what we wanted to do with it. I couldn't see either of us throwing wild parties in there. It just seemed like a nice place to get away.

By February, I was feeling rather depressed. Blaise had all but abandoned me. After my initial introductions to the right people, I promptly ignored them. I knew it annoyed him that I wasn't sneaking out with them when they met the girls in the forest to drink, or that I didn't want to go to the dances. Hogwarts' social life didn't interest me. I could barely stand most of my classmates, and even then there was a communication barrier. Even though I read lips remarkably well, I still missed words here or there, or someone would talk too fast or turn their head away. In groups, things only got worse. I had more than one mouth to watch, and I missed large chunks of conversation. I would come back to my dorm every day, as it was, with my head aching from a day of reading lips at school, and I had no intention of going out for more. Only Blaise signed, and he had no intention of playing interpreter for me.

And then there was Ron. Weasley had never forgiven me for calling his girlfriend a cheap whore. We nearly came to blows on a number of occasions, but I just kept reminding myself that he wasn't worth my father's wrath. I wondered why Potter would be friends with such an asshole, but he was altogether too confusing. I also wondered if he knew about Harry's scars. In the end I decided that he almost had to because they were roommates.

Though we had finished the room together, Harry and I weren't what you could call friends, but we weren't enemies either. We shared a secret. Both of us used the room as a hiding place when we couldn't take any more. I would see things that he had left behind, but I very rarely saw Harry in the room.

One day, I found a notebook lying on the table. It was a black, hardbound book just like the one Snape had taken from Harry. I knew I shouldn't, but I opened it and began looking through it. I had thought it was just a notebook at first, but it was actually a sketchbook. Harry Potter was an artist, and a damn good one at that. The first few were of Weasley and Granger. Then came a few of teachers. He had managed to capture Snape's sneer perfectly. I turned one more page and gasped. It was me. I sat at my desk with my head resting on my hands reading something. In fact, the next several were of me.

I saw the candle flicker as air moved in the room, and I saw Harry standing in the doorway. His lips moved, but it was too dark to see what he had said, and I merely handed him the book. He took it and left.

The next day I chased him down in the hall. It had been a relief to find him alone, and I had to ask: "Why did you draw those pictures of me?"

"I was bored," he lied.

"They're very good," I told him. "I didn't mean to piss you off or anything by looking at them."

He shook his head. "I'm glad you like them." He opened his mouth to say more, but I was abruptly pulled back and slammed against the wall.

"Leave him alone, asshole," Weasley commanded. His face was contorted in anger, as he choked me. He cocked his head toward Harry, and I knew he was listening to him. "Why do you always defend this bastard?" he demanded. He dropped me and turned to Harry.

I was too busy trying to breath to pay much attention to what was being said. I watched Weasley storm off, and Harry dropped to his knees beside me. "Are you alright?"

I nodded. Only then did I realize what had just happened. He had stood up for me, just like he "always" did according to Weasley. I had taken him all wrong from the beginning.

"We should get to class," he said.

Harry Potter was a very strange person. I never quite knew what to think of him. I wanted to know what went on behind those emotionless green eyes of his. Maybe it was the common thread that we were both different from our classmates, or maybe it was simply that he had stood up for me. Whatever the reason, I was intrigued.


	4. Chapter 4

This is a makeshift chapter of sorts. It is betaed, (thanks to the woderful Empathic Siren and Alter) but this isn't my origional final revision. I still haven't been able to get to my good copy on TSS, and that is still looking shaky as to when it will be back up, so I am posting this for the time being.

Chapter 4

I didn't make much progress getting to know Harry over the next couple weeks. He had his defenses built high, and I wasn't exactly sure how to get by them. I would ask him a question about this or that only to get the shortest answer possible and a blank stare. Often, I would get frustrated, and forget about trying to get to know him for a day or two. The only progress I could see was that he no longer hid his drawings from me. I would find the sketchbook laying open on the table to whatever he wanted me to see. Most times, it was a sketch of me or of other students. I think that it was his way of telling me what he thought about the people around him. After studying them, I would scratch out a note for him and leave it on the table. I would write things like "I don't really look like that when I'm thinking, do I?" or "Be honest. Granger isn't that pretty, whether she's your friend or not." He never did write back. But, there would always be another picture waiting for me when I returned.

The hockey championship game was held the last week of February, and Blaise roped me into going in support of Slytherin. Once again it was down to Slytherin and Gryffindor. I was still stinging over not making the team, and I hadn't attended a single game. I did know that Harry was largely considered to be the best player in the school. Sitting in the stands between Blaise and Pansy, I realized why. He was almost unstoppable on the ice. He was more graceful on ice than most people were on land. Weaving between players, he handled the puck as if it was second nature to him. He wasn't a show off either. He passed as much as he shot.

The score was tied at three-one with Gryffindor in the lead when Harry shot down the rink. Everyone was certain that this would be another point for Gryffindor, but Harry was violently slammed into the wall by the Slytherin team captain. Marcus Flint took the puck, ran it down to the other goal and fired it in. For the rest of the game, Harry took quite a beating. Flint would do his best to nail Harry without being penalized. Finally in the fourth period, he was sent to the penalty box. Gryffindor was down by two points. Angelina Johnson managed to close the gap by one, and Oliver Wood kept it at that. In a frantic effort as the clock wound down, Fred Weasley managed to pull off a miracle shot, and send the game into sudden death overtime. The stands were humming beneath me from all of the cheering.

Harry took the puck first, whizzed down the ice, and passed it to Angelina. Her shot was blocked by Flint, who hooked the puck and furiously skated down the middle while ignoring open teammates. Luckily for Gryffindor, Harry was nimble enough to steal the puck away. Harry shot. It was Gryffindor's last chance at winning. The crowd stilled as the puck flew through the air. The Slytherin goalie reached out, but the puck sailed past him by mere inches. Gryffindor had won!

What happened next wouldn't leave me for quite some time. Harry had been standing there smiling at the scoreboard, when out of nowhere Flint charged at him. The whole crowd watched in horror as Flint lunged at Harry causing his head to crash into the ice. I could see blood on the ice, and I stood up and screamed his name. My voice must have been drowned out by all of the others, because no one said anything to me about it later. However, Blaise told me later that he had actually heard Harry's skull hit the ice. I shuddered to think of what that would sound like. It had been terrible enough to watch.

I tried to push my way closer to him to see if he was all right, but a number of adults were already surrounding him. It didn't take long before he was loaded on a backboard with a neck brace on. My heart pounded wildly as I watched paramedics take him off the ice. There was still a bloodstain and pieces of shattered helmet on the ice. I stayed there for a minute, and then calmly walked to the bathroom and threw up.

For the next day, rumors flew around Hogwarts about Harry's condition. Some people claimed that he had severe brain damage and might not live, while others claimed that he was suing the school and never coming back. One thing was certain, though, Marcus Flint was expelled.

The uncertainty of Harry's condition was killing me. I hated not knowing what had happened to him. In the end, I went to extreme measures to find out. I caught Granger in the hall right after lunch. She was blessedly Ron-free at the moment. She looked at me like she wanted to slap me, but at least waited to hear me out. "Is he going to be all right?" I asked.

She nodded, and raised her hands. **A pretty bad concussion and some stitches. They want to keep him one more night to be safe.**

I was instantly filled with two emotions: one, relief that he would be okay, and two, shock that she had signed to me. **Thank you. I didn't know you signed?**

**That's because we're not exactly friends.**

I couldn't deny that one, so I simply nodded.

**I know you're worried about him, or I wouldn't have told you anything, **she signed with narrowed eyes.

**I'm glad you did. **

She stared at me for a moment, and it was almost like she was deciding whether to give me a lecture. **I don't know what he sees in you, but there must be something. Please don't disappoint him.**

I raised my hands to say something, but she walked away.

I went to the Room of Requirement that night, and sat alone on the couch. The news that Harry would be all right had taken a load off of my chest, but I still felt restless. Out of boredom, I picked up the old copy of _The Great Gatsby_, and began to read. Hours passed by as I turned page after page, drinking in each word. I was to the last chapter when I found something tucked between the pages.

I unfolded it and stared at faded ink.

_I love you. Does that even matter when you have them by your side? I can't stand this for much longer. I can't be your little secret. I sit alone at night and wonder if he is touching you the way I do. He doesn't have any right to. Tell him. Tell all of them. I don't care if they know, or what they'll say when they do. Don't do this anymore. _

_Yours Always,_

_SS_

I refolded it, and slipped it back into the pages. Feeling like I had disturbed some sacred relic, I turned to the markings on the wall. Whoever SS was, he had obviously loved RL very much. Desperation had leapt from the letter. I wondered if they ever did get to be together? Judging from the slash through the initials, I guessed not.

On a whim, I looked at the inside cover of the book. There was an inscription.

_To Moony,_

_Happy Birthday!_

_From Padfoot_

I put the book back on the table. It had given me quite enough to think about for the evening. I would finish it some other time.

Blaise was still awake when I got back to our dorm. **Where were you? **he asked while looking at the clock.

**Nowhere special. **

**You spend a lot of time "nowhere special." Christ, would it be that hard to tell me? **

He looked hurt, but I wouldn't break my promise. **Really, it's not that great. I just needed to be alone.**

**We're going to sneak out with some of the juniors to Hogsmeade tomorrow night. Do you want to come?**

I shook my head.

**Fine, go nowhere special for all I care. **He turned off the light and promptly ended all conversation. This was a very rude gesture to a deaf person and Blaise knew it. Sighing, I settled into bed and drifted into a dreamless sleep.

The next morning was Saturday and only the freshmen, eighth, and seventh graders were left. School rules allowed the sophomores and upperclassmen to visit Hogsmeade. It wasn't much, according to Blaise who had been sneaking out since the seventh grade, but it was still a big deal to be allowed out on weekends. The school always felt so deserted without all the other students, but it made sneaking to the Room of Requirement easier.

I was shocked to find the door opened, and Harry sitting with his knees up ,drawing. He looked up at me and smiled. There was a bandage on his forehead and his face was bruised on the left side. "You're back," I said trying not to seem too happy.

He nodded. "I'm fine. The helmet took most of the hit. At least we won."

"You idiot! He nearly took your head off!"

"I…I…" he turned his head away like he was embarrassed that I had cared.

"Don't turn away when you talk," I scolded him.

His eyes were thoughtful for a second. "I keep forgetting that you're deaf."

"How can you forget?" I grumbled. "I know how weird my voice sounds." As if my father could ever let me forget it, I added to myself.

Harry put down his sketchbook and shook his head. "You sound kind of nasal and muffled…like you have a cold. Sometimes, you're a little hard to understand, but it isn't bad."

I wanted to talk about anything but that, so I picked up the copy of _The Great Gatsby_, and opened it to the note. "I found this while you were in the hospital." After he finished reading, I turned to the inscription."I think RL and Moony are the same person."

"I never thought about any of the Marauders being girls," he commented picking up the note. "You do know what this means, don't you?"

I shook my head.

There was a gleam in his eye. I could tell that he was enjoying this little mystery. "We can figure out who they were."

"How are we supposed to do that?"

"Well, we know for a fact that RL is Moony…."

"No, we don't know that "for a fact." She could have borrowed the book from Moony and given it back to him with the note inside," I reasoned.

He shook his head. "That book was obviously well loved by someone, and that note doesn't look like the sort of thing you would just forget in a book. We also know that they were here in 1978. All we have to do is go through the yearbooks and find out who has the initials RL and SS."

I sighed. There didn't seem to be much chance of talking him out of this. My own logic said that it wouldn't be that simple, but I knew it was one way of to spend more time with him. I followed him grudgingly down the halls and into the library.

Granger was standing at the check out desk with a pile of books the size of a small mountain when we came in. She smiled at Harry and glared at me. Harry must have asked about Weasley, because she rolled her eyes and said, "Ron study? Are you insane? He's too busy wasting time with his brothers. **What are you two doing here?**"

I was about to tell her that it was none of her business, but Harry came up answered her instead. "We found a note in an old book and we're going to look up who wrote it. Do you know where they keep the old year books?"

She nodded, and we followed her to a dusty old corner of the library. There were several copies of all of the yearbooks from 1950 on forward. I picked up a copy of the 1978 yearbook, and went directly for the "S's." "I'll look for SS," I told them.

Out of a class of seventy people, you would think that the initials SS wouldn't be that common. You would be wrong. I found six names within the first ten minutes I was at it. I did laugh when I saw Severus Snape on the list. The image of Snape penning a desperate love letter to some girl seemed too farfetched, and I took the liberty of putting his name at the bottom.

Harry and Hermione weren't quite as lucky. There was not one girl in the 1978 class with the initials RL. Hermione went back to pick up another couple of years, when I noticed Harry stop dead in his tracks.

"Everything all right?" I asked.

He nodded, and I peeked over his shoulder at a smiling couple dressed in formal wear. The words "Prom King and Queen 1978" were across the top, and I recognized the boy in the picture instantly. These were Harry's parents. His mother was a beautiful redhead with bright green eyes, and his father was the exact image of Harry. The look on Harry's face was pained.

"What's wrong?" I asked setting aside my own yearbook.

"I…It's nothing." He shut the book, and looked away.

Something inside of me told me to leave it be for now.

Our search for RL didn't go that well. We found a few girls with those initials, but none of them seemed particularly mischievous. It was late in the day when we abandoned our quest. It seemed impossible to pinpoint the couple. I was tempted to tell Harry "I told you so," but I couldn't bring myself to do it.

Back in the Room of Requirement, I watched as Harry picked up his sketchpad and began drawing. I knew that he was discouraged by not solving his mystery, but I really didn't know why it mattered so much to him. I admit, I was curious, but he seemed to take finding them more seriously. Something told me that even though he was giving up for the moment, he would not forget about this.

As weeks went by and spring break neared, I saw much more of Harry. With hockey season over, he spent most of his free time holed up in the room. He looked sad, but for the life of me I couldn't figure out why. I tried several times to ask him what was wrong, but he always shrugged and looked away. It was like he just turned off inside completely. Not even the mystery of the lovers could draw him out of his shell.

About a week before break was to begin, I found him curled on the sofa. I watched him for a long time. His body was trembling, and I though that maybe he was crying, but when he lifted his head, his eyes were dry.

I sighed and sat down beside him not knowing what was wrong or how to fix it. "Are you homesick?" I asked. I remembered that he had not been home since the start of the school year.

He shook his head. "I never get homesick. Do you? Do you miss your parents?"

"I miss my mother," I told him thoughtfully, "and I guess I miss my father sometimes."

"Why only sometimes?"

Shrugging, I tried to think of the best way to describe the relationship I had with my father. "He's not very easy to get along with."

A wry smile came to his lips, and I was glad to see it there. "Reminds me of someone else I know."

I laughed. "I am not hard to deal with! How about you?"

As quickly as the smile had come, it was gone. "I can't miss them."

All of the signs were telling me to leave the subject alone, and I did. Instead, I turned my attention to the notebook. Flipping to the first new drawing, I sat there in shock. He had drawn his parents. They were older. Harry was standing between them wearing a short-sleeved shirt with no scars on his arms. He was smiling. Harry had drawn what he desired most in this world. "It's beautiful," I told him.

"I wish it were real," he said. The passion behind those words was not lost on me. His eyes stayed on the sketch, as though he could make it real by staring at it long enough.

"I'm staying here over break," I announced. That was, of course, something that I had just come up with, and I knew my mother would be disappointed. But, I just couldn't leave him all alone at school then.

He looked at me with a sort of gratitude that made my heart feel light. Despite all of his barriers, he was lonely. I could see that he desperately wanted to let me in, but I could also see fear. It was like looking into a mirror, really. For all the years Blaise and I had been friends, Blaise didn't understand me. He didn't know what it meant to be different, to feel like a misfit. Harry and I were alike in that way. Maybe that was why I had decided to stay, because I knew that it was one small way to let him know that I cared about him. Whatever was waiting for him at home, I knew it wasn't good. I had seen enough of Harry's odd behavior to know that he was the product of something terrible, and I was willing to be there for him.


	5. Chapter 5

Thanks to Alter, as always. I would also like to thank my new beta and friend Occasus.

Chapter 5

It was strange watching everyone pack up to go. Blaise was more than a little mad at me for not telling him that I was staying until the last minute. It had always been our tradition, before I started at Hogwarts, to spend the week together when he got back from school. I knew that our friendship was fading, and not just because of the Room of Requirement. We were both growing up, and growing apart. My heart ached to see it happen, but I knew that even if I had gone along with his plans this was inevitable.

I watched him zip up his bag. **What are your plans for break?** I asked.

He shrugged. **Probably not much. I'll just hang out at home. What are you going to do here?**

**I don't know.**

**Bullshit, **Blaise sneered. He threw his bag over his shoulder and walked out.

Discouraged, I spent most of the first day roaming the halls of the school aimlessly. It was amazing how empty the place really was. Someone had told me that only six of us stayed behind that year. Going from a school that usually held about three-hundred plus students to an abandoned old campus, really made the place seem even bigger than it ever had before. I found myself down by the lake staring at the glistening water. I felt lost. For the first time since we found the room, I was unsure that I was doing the right thing.

The air grew colder, and I could see the sky darken. The branches of the willow tree on the edge of campus began to dance in wind. I closed my eyes, and let the feeling take over as a gust pushed by me. Ice-cold drops of an April shower began to fall on my face. It really did feel wonderful. I simply stood there for the longest time letting the rain roll down my skin.

I was soaked by the time I went back inside, and found Harry standing just under the overhang in the doorway. He was staring at me with this indiscernible look in his eyes, like he was seeing everything, all of me all at once. I shivered, and he took off his own light jacket, wrapping it around my shoulders. His hand lingered near my face for only the briefest of seconds before he drew it back like he'd been burned. "You're going to be sick after this," he said forcing a smile.

"Harry, I…"

"Let's go in," he said cutting me off.

To be honest, I'm still not sure what I would have said to him at that moment. I was more confused than anything, as I followed him back into school. He left me at the stairs to the Slytherin area of the school, and went back to Gryffindor.

In the solitude of my room, I leaned against the wall. A wave of lust hit me as I recalled standing so close to him. It was his eyes. Those gorgeous green eyes staring at me so intently made me want him. This is ridiculous, I told myself. Harry is my friend, and more than likely straight.

I had just dried off, and settled down at my desk to read, when the lights flickered on and off—which is the best way to get my attention. It's kind of like knocking on the door. At home, the doorbell is even hooked up to the lights. Professor Snape stood just inside the doorway dressed in dark slacks, and a black shirt. He looked at the mess Blaise and I had made with disdain. **I have spoken to Professor McGonagall. Because you are the only student in Slytherin who stayed, it causes problems for me. I have plans for my break, and I am not about to waste the two weeks here. You will be staying in the Gryffindor dorms until classes start again. You can either room with Neville Longbottom or Harry Potter. **

I bit my lip nervously.

Snape cocked a dark brow. **No, I didn't think that you would like your options, but you must choose. Though, I would suggest staying away from Potter.**

**Why do you hate him so much? **I asked boldly.

**I don't hate him. I have my reasons not to trust him. Now make up your mind. I have places to go.**

**I'll stay with Harry.**

That day, I packed up what I would need for the week, and headed to the Gryffindor end of school up near the southern tower with Snape at my side. Professor McGonagall was waiting for us. I saw her eyes widen a bit when he told her who I would be staying with. With nothing more said, Snape stalked off. I almost pitied whoever ended up dealing with him for the break.

McGonagall's lips thinned. I could tell she was uncomfortable talking to me without Tonks there to interpret. I hated this kind of thing. People are sometimes afraid to try and communicate with deaf people. They fear being misunderstood, or misunderstanding and looking foolish. What they don't see is that, for the most part, we're generally used to it. If a mistake happens, it happens. I don't mind repeating myself, or asking someone to repeat something. If all else fails there is always writing, but I hated it when people were too nervous to even try. I sighed, and decided to make the first move. "I promise I won't be any trouble."

McGonagall smiled good naturedly. "NO TROUBLE AT ALL, MR MALFOY. I WILL SHOW YOU TO YOUR ROOM," she said painfully slowly. I imagined she was talking very loudly too, which is extremely stupid. I couldn't hear anything no matter how loud it was.

I nodded, and followed her up the stairs. The common room, I noticed, was near identical to ours but in Gryffindor red and gold. Harry's room was at the end of the hall with a Rangers poster on the door. McGonagall knocked, and Harry answered with a smile.

When she left us, I put my bag down on Weasley's bed (yes, the thought gave me the creeps), and asked him, "Do you mind me staying here?"

He shook his head. "I don't mind. I'm surprised you'd want to stay here is all."

"Why should you be surprised? We're friends, aren't we?" Part of me was silently pleading that he'd say yes. I need him to tell me that we were.

To my relief, Harry smiled. "We are."

I spent that night getting settled in. Harry moved some of his things to make room for me, and I gratefully unpacked. I saw the sketches pinned to the wall. Most were of landscapes, something I had never seen in his sketchbook. "You didn't show me those," I said pointing.

Harry shrugged. "I drew those in art class. They really aren't mine, not like what I do on my own."

I smiled. He had shown me the art that was special, and I did see what he meant about these sketches not being "his." Compared to his other drawings, these seemed lifeless and flat. Perhaps, I thought that because I knew that they didn't matter to him as much. Like the room, I felt that it was something that we shared now, something between us. I liked that feeling.

Later that evening, Harry picked up his pajamas, and was about to leave the room. "Why don't you just change here?" I asked.

He flushed. "No one wants to see something as ugly as I am."

"Harry, I don't care. Besides, it's not like I'm going to be watching you anyway," I told him holding up my book.

He nodded, and nervously pulled his shirt over his head. I did try to keep my eyes on the book, but I kept glancing up at him. Despite the scars, I could see that Harry was in great shape, but he was still too thin, the taut muscle couldn't hide that fact. I noticed that there were patches of unmarred skin here and there. The back of his neck was smooth, and so was his most of stomach. I forced my eyes back onto the page, and felt my self harden as I remembered the look in his eyes earlier. Even then, I wanted him. I went to bed that night with the image of Harry in my mind.

Spring break was an interesting time. It was the one time that all houses combined. I learned that I was not the only guest in the tower. The total count came down to two Grffindors, two Hufflepuffs, one Ravenclaw, and myself, the lone Slytherin. It was odd, all of us at the same table in the Great Hall for breakfast. I had never thought to find myself at the same table as the school screw-up, Longbottom, and the school nutcase, Lovegood. The professors table was also relatively abandoned as well. Only McGonagall, Dumbledore, and Trelawney were left—and two out of those three were certifiable. I looked at the small group and couldn't help but smile. Only the freaks and geeks left, I thought wryly.

I went back to my own meal, but I glanced over at Harry. I was astounded by how little Harry ate. I watched as he meticulously shifted the food around into even piles on his plate. He seemed to be deciding what to eat and what not to eat. Never in my life had I seen someone so picky about how he ate. At lunch one day, I offered him the desert I had taken. He shook his head, and stared at it like it was poison. "I don't deserve it," he said with an absolutely blank face. At first, I thought he was joking—or rather, I prayed that he was joking. It was easier to dismiss it than it was to realize that there was something severely wrong with Harry.

That first week, Harry and I spent a good deal of time on the ice. My competitive nature was peeking through again, and I was dying to make next year's team. We laced up and played mock one-on-one games. I don't think we ever kept score, and if we had—I probably would have come out on the bottom. He told me that the only reason I didn't make the team was that my puck handling was off, and showed me how to correct my mistakes. Of course, it took me getting my ass handed to me several times, before I even admitted that he was right about that. My pride still pricked every time he scored a goal. Friend or not, I was determined to beat him someday.

Harry and I also spent a lot of time watching movies on my laptop computer. I had brought a fair amount of DVD's from home. His utter lack of pop culture knowledge blew my mind. He had never seen any of the movies I'd brought and hadn't heard of half of them. "Don't you ever watch TV?" I asked putting a DVD in a case.

He shook his head. "I'm not allowed. I don't get to go see movies either."

"Why not?" As soon as I asked, I could see the steel wall come up between us. I sighed. "You can trust me, Harry. You really can."

"My aunt and uncle are pretty strict with me. That's all," he said.

It was the first time he had ever said anything about them at all, and I proceeded cautiously. "Do they have any kids?"

"A son. Dudley's our age."

"Really? I'd have thought he'd be younger or older, since he doesn't go here."

Harry shuddered. "He did, for a year. There was some trouble, and he left. I'm really tired. I just want to go to bed," he told me. I could tell he was lying.

"Okay," I said simply.

Lying in bed, my stomach felt like I had swallowed lead. Something was VERY wrong. I guess, part of me had known that all along—at least, since the night he called himself a freak. I racked my brain trying to figure out what to do. What could I do? I couldn't tell anyone about it, because that would be chasing him away. I was so upset I physically hurt inside.

The next day, Harry and I took a walk along the lakeshore. He was smiling, but I had learned that it meant very little. I remembered that Blaise had told me there were rumors about Harry's relatives being abusive. Never once had I ever contemplated what it would be like to have something like that in my life. My parents weren't perfect, but they would never do anything like that to me. Yet, this was Harry's reality. It shaped so much of who he was then. His self-image was so skewed that it made me ill to think about it. I knew all too well what it was like to have an ideal about yourself forced on you. My father had almost convinced me that my deafness made me less of a person, but unlike Harry, I had managed to stave off that view. Harry's perceptions had been so ingrained in him, that I wondered if he would ever be able to free himself from it. Looking at Harry, I saw that whatever they were doing was slowly killing him.

Harry crouched by the lake, and picked up a smooth stone. "I can never get these things to skip across the water," he said.

I found another stone, and let it fly. It hopped across the surface before sinking. "I can teach you."

Mimicking my hold and release, he managed to get one to skip twice after only a few tries. It was stupid, but I was happy to be showing him something for once—even if it was something inane. "You're a good teacher."

I beamed at the compliment. "Thank you. You're not such a bad student….no matter what Snape thinks."

We both laughed, and then he shied away for a moment. "Draco?" he asked hesitantly. "Would you mind teaching me something else?"

"What do you want to learn?" I wasn't sure I had all that much to teach him. Harry was, after all, annoyingly good at most things.

"I want to learn how to sign."

I could see the slightest tinge of red in his cheeks, and my hearts swelled. He wanted to learn "my" language. Normally, I didn't sign when I spoke to a hearing person. It was something that my father had lectured me on, but this was different. From then on, I decided that I would always sign when I was with Harry. **"Yes, I'd like that."**

His smile widened.

That day, we sat beneath the willow tree, and I taught him the manual alphabet. His eyes were intent on what I was showing him, and he seemed to be picking it up rather quickly. For practice, he spelled out the names of things around us, and tried to understand what I spelled to him. Of course, it would take more than one day to learn, but the important thing was that he was learning.

Sitting there with him, I felt like I was on the top of the world. It would be wonderful to be able to sign with Harry. Speaking really never felt like sign did. When I signed, it felt like there was so much more being expressed. Not only the gestures matter, but the facial expressions and body language. So much emotion comes through when a person signs. Maybe for a hearing person, it's like that with speaking, but not for me. ASL had always been, and would always be my language, and now I was sharing it with Harry.

I leaned back against the tree. **"Are you ready to go in?"**

It was already close to sunset, and he nodded. "Can we do this tomorrow?"

"**Yes."  
**

He mirrored back the sign. "I'm glad. It's so beautiful to watch you signing."

Heat rose to my cheeks. **"Thank you for learning."**

"I bet all of your friends in Slytherin already have it mastered."

Frowning, I told him, **"I don't really have that many friends. Only Blaise knows sign, no one else ever cared to learn."**

Harry looked surprised.

"**We should go."  
**

After that, we spent every afternoon under the willow tree. Harry didn't lose interest in signing as I feared he might. He eagerly copied all of the signs that I showed him. By the end of the week, I had even formulated a plan on how to help Harry learn. I knew that Tonks would be more than happy to help me. She had commented more than once that she would help me teach any of my friends who wanted to learn. Being that it was Harry, I thought that she might even want to do it more.

I didn't want break to end. Spending ever day with Harry had been wonderful. It really had been great to see him more relaxed and happier than he had been before. Also, I liked sharing a room with him. I secretly loved being with him. My crush had only gotten worse by the day. Despite his pain, Harry was amazing. On my last day in his room, I packed my bags feeling sad that I had to go. I wished that we had been in the same house.

My room in Slytherin seemed lonely, and that didn't change when Blaise showed up. He barely spared me a glance when he came in. I guessed that he was still angry with me for not spending break with him.

I touched his shoulder. **I'm sorry.**

He shrugged. **I don't get you any more. What's with all this secretive bullshit with Harry?** **Don't lie to me.**

**We're friends. **I paused for a moment. How was I going to explain this without letting him know about the room? My hands shook a little as I made a confession for the first time. **I like him.**

**You generally do like your friends, **he quipped. Blaise was fishing for more and I knew it.

**No, I like him as more than a friend.**

He quirked a brow. **I knew it.**

**Then why did I need to tell you? **I pouted. My face was bright red. **You haven't been entirely honest either. **

I could have killed him when he started laughing. **So we're fags. And we aren't the only ones in Hogwarts either.**

**Who? **I asked still sulking.

**Dean Thomas, **he spelled with a devilish smile.

**How do you know?**

**I know from experience. **

**AND? **

Blaise flopped down on his bed. **And he's an excellent kisser. **

**So is he your boyfriend?**

To my annoyance, he just shrugged. **I don't know. I don't think so. What about you and Harry?**

I shook my head. **Just friends.**

To Blaise, that may have seemed like it would be disappointing to me, but it was quite the opposite really. Being Harry's friend meant that I had managed to get him to trust me…even if it was only a little.


	6. Chapter 6

Thanks to Occasus and Alter for being my betas!

Chapter 6

I did not want Harry to go back to those people! That thought echoed through my mind a million times and over again as the days passed. I wanted to protect him from whatever those sick fucks did to him, and with each day, I became more desperate to do it. I watched Harry once again become irritable and nervous. There were no new drawings for me. Sometimes, I would find him curled into a ball on the sofa in the room. Anger built in my stomach to the point that I could no longer contain it. I needed to do something about this, but what? Who could I turn to at a time like this?

Hermione Granger seemed the best option at the time. I found her in the library on a Sunday afternoon pouring over a copy of Dante. She glared at me over the top of the book and set it down. **What do you want?**

**Can we please have a conversation without hostility? **I asked trying to be as polite as possible. Being an immature ass wouldn't get me anywhere with Hermione and I knew it.

Her eyes softened a bit and she gestured to the chair beside her. **Worried about him?**

**Aren't you? **

Of course, I am! I love Harry like a brother. You think I want to see him hurt?

I wanted to scream at her. **You know **and yet you** do nothing? **

**What would you have me do? Where would he go if he was taken away from them? Besides I'm not one hundred percent sure they are abusing him. People don't have to be abused to be anorexic, **she told me.

I drew in a sharp breath. I had known, but I had never put a word to it. Putting a word to something makes it too real sometimes. Yet, I knew that there was more to it than just anorexia. They hurt him, one way or another. **No, they do things to him. I know it and so do you. You're the smart one. I don't know why you're doing this. We have to help him.**

**You have! **she signed boldly. **I shouldn't be telling you this, but Harry has been doing much better since you became friends. He….he punished himself for a month after your fight. **

**What? **All of the air went out of my lungs, and I didn't dare take another breath.

**He punishes himself for things by restricting what already little food he eats. On a good day, I've seen him eat almost what could be considered normal for a small child. He does such horrible things to himself. I've wanted to go to someone about it, but after meeting Dudley, I found out enough to know that they would punish him severely for getting help. When you two fought, he went to extremes even for him. I've never seen him punish himself like that before. Even after break, he was still only eating about a fourth of what he usually does.**

I couldn't explain the sick feeling that I had watching those words. My God, would I never be through finding out exactly what an asshole I was? I had hurt the one person on this earth that I saw as pure. I buried my face in my hands for a moment trying to make the world stop spinning. **I didn't know. You have to believe that I would never knowingly hurt him, and not just because I pity him.**

**You love him. **She said it simply, like it was common knowledge. Perhaps, by then, it was. I just hadn't come to terms with it myself.

I nodded. **I do. **

Your father is a very powerful man.

**How do you know?**

She rolled her eyes. **I read the damn paper that's how. The **Wallstreet Journal had a profile on him not too long ago. I don't know much about the Dursleys), but I know that Vernon works for one of the smaller companies that your father owns.

The light finally flicked on in my mind. Of course! Hermione was brilliant! **So I should use my father as a way to get Harry out of the house for the summer! Why didn't I think of it before? If he's with me, he'll be safe.**

She glanced at her watch. **I'm supposed to meet Ron. **

I nodded, but there was one more thing I had to ask her. **Hermione, why do you know sign?**

**My younger brother is deaf. **

**Will he be coming here too? **I asked.

She shook her head. **He also has a learning disability, but we all love him more than life.**

**He's lucky to have you.**

She smiled. **And Harry is lucky to have you.**

After I left Granger, I e-mailed my father telling him what a wonderful time I was having with Harry, and that I wanted him to come home with me for the summer. I hinted that I thought he should speak to Vernon Dursley. One thing I will say for my father—anything I've ever wanted, I have gotten. I didn't doubt for an instant that he would do it for me.

The next step in my little plan was to hunt down Harry. Normally he wasn't hard to find. At the most, there were only four or five places he ever went on his own. The room was empty, as were the art studio and astronomy tower. I finally found him under the willow gently caressing a pair of carvings. For as much time as we spent under the willow, neither of us ever really paid attention to the markings left by lovers from past classes. There were dozens of them really. The old willow was a right of passage in a way. Couples that were together for a year or more added their initials to the trunk.

**"What did you find?"**

"My parents," he told me pointing to one. Then he pointed to the one beside it. "And this."

_SB+RL _

I smiled. I wasn't at all sure it was the same RL, but at least he found something else to think about besides the summer. **"Another clue."**

"Do you think we'll ever figure it out?"

"**Sure we will," **I told him firmly. Anything that kept him occupied was worth it, in my mind. **"We should go back to the library and look for SB."**

Harry shook his head, and slumped back against the tree trunk. "Not now."

**"Why?" **I asked settling down beside him.

He shrugged. "I don't want to."

**"Harry, I was wondering if you would like to stay with me this summer." **

His bright green eyes widened. It was as if I had said something too shocking to be believed. "Why would you want me to come?"

**"Because we are friends, Harry." You know 'friends,' **I added in sign.

He repeated the sign staring at his own hands. "I don't know why."

I did something right then that shocked us both. Reaching out, I pulled him to me tightly. His hands remained limply at his sides for a moment, and then he wrapped them around. "I care about you more than you know. I want you to come home with me this summer, because I want you to be happy." I felt the telltale vibrations against my shoulder signaling that he was saying something. Reluctantly, I leaned back to see his face. "Silly, you know I can't understand you like that."

He smiled shyly. "I know. I just wanted to say it."

"Say what?"

He stared at me, and I could tell he was deliberating what to tell me. "I want to come home with you." Then the smile faded from his face. "They won't let me."

"**Yes, they will. I've called in a little help."**

His face paled, and he backed away. Fear covered him like a shroud. "What did you do?"

**"Nothing. I swear I didn't get you in trouble. My father knows who Vernon is. He's going to ask for us."**

"Okay," he said calmed considerably.

Over the next few days, I checked my email a million times a day. Blaise would simply roll his eyes at him every time I raced to the desk and pulled out my computer. God only knows what he thought I was waiting for. It took almost a full week to get a reply.

_Draco,_

_I have no idea why you had such a sudden change of heart about young Potter, but I am rather glad you did. It gives me pleasure to know that you are securing your financial future. I have found out through a number of sources that the Potter fortune is immense to say the least. You'd do well to foster whatever kind of friendship you can with the boy. His account would make a wonderful addition to our firm. Apparently, however, the entire fortune will be tightly controlled until he is of age. As it is, the Dursleys receive a yearly sum for expenses, and his school needs are covered though an advisor—Dumbledore of all people. I have yet to hear a single good remark made about Dursley. From what I can tell, "convincing" him to allow Harry some time with us will be no problem. While the boy is with us, you WILL remain on your best and most benevolent behavior. Need I remind you that businesses are forged and broken by all of the right connections? Do not disappoint me._

_Your Father_

I shuddered when I finished reading his reply. He thought of Harry as a business venture. Really, I shouldn't have been surprised in the least. I knew how my father was. Calculating as he was, he saw the world as nothing more than a giant chess game that he would win at any cost. At least, for once, some good would come out of his ways. Harry would be with us. Now, I only had to wait for the official details to be worked out between my parents and Harry's relatives. I couldn't have been more proud of myself. As I saw it, I had fixed the problem. It's amazing how naïve a person can be when they are young. I walked on air those next few weeks.

Details were finalized a few days before school was out. Harry would go home with the Dursley's for the first three weeks, and then spend the remainder of the summer with me. The look in Harry's eyes could best be described as haunted when he found out he would still have to see them. I didn't like this one bit, and I was almost ready to email my dad demanding that Harry come straight home. But if I demanded anymore, he would want an explanation.

My heart ached as I watched him force a smile for me on the train. **Thank you. **"They probably just want me to have some time with the….the family, that's all. We'll have lots of fun this summer, I promise."

I returned the false enthusiasm only because I knew it would hurt Harry if I didn't. "**Of course we will. You're going to be staying with the Malfoys. You're still going to practice signing right?"**

I saw a flash of pain in his beautiful eyes, and he shrugged. "I don't know if I'll have time. I might be busy."

"**I thought you weren't allowed to do much?" **I asked huffily. It stung that he could take it so lightly after he'd made such big deal about it. He turned away, and I saw that his knuckles were white as he gripped the armrests. I knew it wasn't his fault. **"Ok, but I'm going to have you signing fluently someday."**

He smiled at me, and then pulled out his sketchbook. "I filled this year's book, and I want you to have it."

"**You do? Harry, you put a lot of work into this," **I said staring at the black cover. His work meant so much to him that I couldn't believe he'd ever give it away like that.

"I'd rather you have it than…I just want you to have it," he insisted shoving it in to my hands.

I gently flipped through the pages. True, I'd seen them all before, but I never got tired of looking at them….not even the ones of the Weasels. Harry's drawings had a quality to them that made you like the people that you saw. He brought out pieces of them that didn't always come through when you met them. These were the proof that Harry was still the eternal optimist. He saw everyone as beautiful. Everyone but himself. "**Thank you**," I said putting the book in my bag.

The train shuttered to a stop about an hour after it departed. All around us students were hugging and exchanging numbers before they went off with their parents. I spotted my dad right off, and dragged Harry over by the arm. Harry stared nervously at my dad and pushed at his glasses.

"Why you must be, Harry," my father said with his most charming smile. He held out his hand, and clasped Harry's tightly. "I say, you are the image of James."

Harry's face dropped to the ground and I missed his reply.

My father continued. "Draco has done nothing but sing your praises, young man. I am glad to see that you didn't fall in with riff raff at school. We are quite pleased that you will be spending time with our family."

Still bashful, Harry opened his mouth to say something, but whipped his head around. I followed his gaze to one of the ugliest looking families I have ever seen. The man was short and fat with a nasty expression, and the woman was his polar opposite in everything but her demeanor. They had their son with them who looked like he could be a sumo wrestler.

I easily read the words "Look, Mom, there's the freak and his freaky deaf friend!" on his lips. The woman pasted on a smile, and clamped a hand over his mouth as they made their way over to us.

The man looked fidgety as he extended his hand to my father. "So nice to finally meet you. I've always heard such wonderful things about you, and Harry's told us all about you, David."

"Draco," I corrected coldly, and gave them my best Malfoy stare.

I turned to see my father's face mirroring my own. He hated social climbers, but he would bear with this bunch if it meant a possible connection the Potter wealth. He let Vernon make the introductions, and didn't seem to be paying all that much attention. "Well then, it's all arranged and we'll be expecting Harry on the second of July," he said curtly. I could have cheered when he turned on his heel and left them gaping after him.

Harry looked mortified through out the entire ordeal. He barely waved goodbye to me as he was ushered off by Petunia.

In the car, my father straightened his collar irritably. "What dreadful people."

I only nodded. He had no idea how true his words were, and I couldn't bring myself to tell him. I knew I should, but there was so much involved that I couldn't seem to make sense of any of it. In my heart, I wanted nothing more than to keep Harry safe with me forever, but were my own intentions pure ones?

The ride was, for lack of a better word, quiet. Our driver had come with my father, and he sat in the back of the limo with a stack of papers on his lap. With nothing else to do, I stared out the window at the scenery as it whipped by. I woke up when we stopped in front of our mansion.

My mother was waiting by the door for us in her favorite blue dress with a beautiful smile on her face. Somehow it stung that I knew it wasn't for me. She rushed down the stair and kissed my father first, before hugging me. "I'm so glad you're finally home. I've missed you, dragon."

"I've missed you, too," I said honestly.

I felt a harsh tap on my shoulder. "Draco, go to room for a while. Your mother and I need to talk."

Nodding, I hoisted one of my bags over my shoulder, and left the rest for the butler to carry up. This was the way things usually went when my father was around. I was shoved aside until he decided there was some use for me. I resented him more than I could tell. He trapped me here for most of my life, and then took away the one person I really cared about. He didn't have any qualms about sending me to school just so I could make "the right connections." My father truly was a bastard, but I loved him anyway. I loved him, and I hated him. The worst part was that I knew, deep down, I was a lot like him.

Nothing at home had changed in the least since I'd left. I spent most of the evening in my room typing away to all of my online friends, many of whom were also deaf. They all talked about spending all of this time with their friends from school going to open captioned movies on Saturdays and here or there during the week. I was a bit jealous, but I knew that Harry would be here soon. I was about to IM Blaise when the lights flashed.

My mother was standing in the doorway with two mugs of hot chocolate in her hands. She sat down beside me, and put the mugs on the table. **I really did miss you. I almost had your father convinced to let you stay home again next year.**

I highly doubted that mom had ever convinced my father to do anything. **I like it there now.**

She nodded and smiled sadly. **My Dragon is home for now.**

"Dragon" had always been my sign. I loved the way it looked when I was a kid. It reminded me of something big and strong. **I'm home, **I repeated. **Are you mad that I stayed over spring break?**

**No, you have friends now. **

**I have always had friends! **

**Friends that aren't on there, **she specified pointing to the computer.

I sighed. She was right I guessed. **I'm really glad that Harry's coming.**

**I know you are**. **Your father seems to think that it's a good idea. **

I had to hide my grimace, because I knew that was all that really mattered. **Mom, I never knew we were related to Sirius Black.**

Her face went icy. **He isn't someone we should associate with. Even the courts agree that he isn't a good man. That's why Harry isn't with him.**

**But what if his relatives are worse?**

**Don't put yourself in the middle, **she told me sternly. **Dinner will be served at six. **

Was I the only one who was willing to fight for Harry? I sulked in my room for the rest of the night. No one even bothered to come get me when I didn't come to dinner. Mom was probably too busy trying to get dad to stay. I fell into a fitful sleep, and wished that July would hurry up and come.


	7. Chapter 7

Sorry it took me so long to get this up. I ran into some trouble and just now managed to sneak around and get this up. Thanks to Occasus and Alter for betaing.

Chapter 7

Time flies when you're having fun, and crawls when you're not. It took forever for July to come. I tried to stop myself from counting the days, but it was useless. Nothing distracted me from wondering what Harry was doing. I wanted to be sure that he was alright, and decided to write him a letter. It thoroughly annoyed me that he didn't have the internet. Three crumpled up papers later I nixed that idea, and went to plan B. We had a TTY, though it rarely got used. I either sent my friends IM's or text messaged them from my sidekick, but neither was an option with Harry.

I dialed the relay service, and hoped that he was home. Petunia answered and told me that Harry was "busy" and would be all week. Hanging up, I glared at the machine venomously. I wished the old bat would rot in hell.

Only a minute later, I noticed our old butler, Dobby, standing just outside the study door. He was nervously crumpling his hat in his hands. "Yes?" I demanded irritably.

The little man looked like I had just slapped him. For whatever reason, he was the most cowardly man I had ever seen. "Begging your pardon, but your mother wants to see you in her garden."

"Fine. I'll be there in a minute."

"Yes, sir," he said before darting away. It wasn't odd for my mother to send servants to do small things like that when my father was around. He believed they should be shown the difference between us and them, and mom always did exactly as she was told.

I found Mom on a bench with a book in her hands. She looked oddly disheveled—something that never happened. "Mom?" I called.

She set the book down. **Dragon, I thought you were never going to come. Did Dobby have a hard time finding you?**

I nodded. **What's wrong?**

**Nothing, I just wanted to see you, that's all. **She gently pushed my hair away from my face and smiled. This was not at all like her.

**Is Dad here?**

She shook her head, and looked away for a moment. I watched as she wiped at her eyes. **He's not coming home for a while. He has business in London, dear, but he said that he'll be back to meet Harry before you go to school.**

For me, my father's absence was never really a bad thing. I didn't miss him. That doesn't mean that I didn't care that my mom was hurting when he was gone. I think we always both knew why he wasn't around, and business was only half of it. It made me angry to think that he could treat her so badly, but I knew she'd never stand up to him. This was just the way we were.

By the time July finally did roll around, I had already planned an entire summer for us both. In my head, I had an exact schedule of all of the wonderful things I would show Harry, and all of the places we would go. I even had mom redecorate the guest room for him. After all, he was going to be spending two and a half whole months with us, and I wanted him to be happy. I was so sure that it would all go perfectly.

I woke up that morning with the butterflies in my stomach. The Dursley's had called the night before to tell my parents that they would be bringing Harry later in the afternoon. Roaming the house, I think that I nearly drove everyone, from the gardener and up, insane. My mother finally had to send me to the stables to get some energy worked off.

We've owned horses for as long as I can remember. It had always been my mother's one and only independent project. Her stables bred some of the finest thoroughbreds. From the time I was a little kid, I had loved to ride. There was something about these powerful creatures that drew me in completely. I had made the mistake of telling my father once that I wanted to be a jockey. That incident got me banned from the stables for a month.

My favorite mare was a bay named Gwenivere. She'd never been up to racing standards, and hadn't been used in a breeding program. The only reason mom had kept her was because I loved her so much. I patted her neck and held out some sugar cubes I had snuck in for her. As a child, I had been fascinated by the feel of her muscular neck as she chewed. When she was done, she sniffed at my hair affectionately. I laughed, and led her out of the stall. I had time for a quick ride. My mother had made sure I knew how to handle a horse at a very young age. My father found it degrading that I cleaned stalls and brushed horses, and lectured me on leaving that kind of thing for the hired help. "Malfoys don't do this kind of thing," he'd told me. As I've said before, I was always glad that my father was never home. I did exactly as pleased.

I took Gwenivere out to the riding arena on the edge of our property. A trail ride didn't seem like a possibility that day. My mother had been right. All of my frustration and unease melted as I rode. Her powerful strides made me feel like I was invincible. It made me feel more alive than just about anything. Now, time did fly.

From the arena, I could see a blue sedan pull up the drive. This was not how I had planned to meet Harry. I raced back to the stable and handed Gwenivere's reins to a stable hand, and ran as fast as I could to the house.

Breathing hard, I screeched to a stop in front of our door. The Dursley's were already out of the car, and talking to my mother. Her expression reminded me of a Barbie doll. She seemed to be gracious and refined, but she was utterly lifeless. The only spark I saw in her was annoyance in her eyes, as Petunia complimented her on this or that.

Harry was just standing there with his blank stare. Suddenly, I was self conscious of my appearance. My cheeks were hot, and I knew my hair must be standing on end. Even I could smell the horse and sweat on me. This was so embarrassing! But Harry really didn't seem to notice. I wondered if he really noticed anything when he was like that. His eyes were open, but they didn't seem to be looking at anything. I decided that it was up to me to make the first move. I smiled at him. **"You're finally here."**

Harry's lips curled the tiniest bit. "I am."

There was so much I wanted to say, so much I wanted to ask him, but first we had to get rid of the Dursleys. Luckily, mom gave us an out. "Why don't you show Harry to his room?" she suggested. The hidden meaning was obvious: "I'll handle these people for you."

Our home was massive, even by, the standards of the wealthy. My grandfather had it built in the thirties when he bought his first company. He was absolutely meticulous with his standards for craftsmanship and architecture. As a result, our home was practically a castle. It mixed old world splendor with the slightest touches of modern style. Most of the rooms never got used, but they were always kept immaculate. I led Harry to the part of the house that had been dubbed "mine." I had my bedroom plus two other rooms—one for my computer and small library, and another that was filled with my television and video games and that sort of thing. Harry's room was set up beside my bedroom.

The entire room was decorated in blues and greens that made the already large room look even bigger. Mom had helped me pick out a few new pieces of furniture including and armoire and things for the small sitting room that adjoined the bedroom. I had insisted that there be an artist's desk against the wall where the best light came in. A new plasma screen TV had been installed with expensive sound and game systems. An entire shelf was filled with all of the DVD's I knew he enjoyed, and more that I knew he would. No expense had been spared. My father barely blinked when he got the bill for what I had done to it. After all, he was hoping to impress Harry, and it wasn't as if he was going to miss the "small" amount I had spent.

I threw door open and watched as Harry walked around examining every inch. He still had a death grip on his bag (I assumed that he had left the others for the butler to bring up). I held my breath expectantly. In my mind, I pictured him telling me how great it was and how much he loved. In reality, I was shocked to see the terrified look in his eyes.

"**You don't like it?" **I asked nonchalantly trying to keep the hurt from showing.

He shook his head. "No, it's great….really wonderful. Are you sure it's ok if I stay here?"

"**Harry, I had them set this room up for you." **I missed what he said next, but I could see the discomfort written across his face. **"What's wrong?"**

"Nothing. I just don't travel well. Car sickness."

It was one of the most pathetic lies I had ever heard, but I decided not to push it. I nodded, and sighed. **"Let's go back down. Dobby can bring up the rest of your things." **

He blushed, and followed me down.

To my annoyance, the Dursley's were all seated in my mother's favorite parlor. Mom gave me a look that said to prepare myself, and I did. "They are staying for dinner, dear."

I smiled fakely. It was something that all Malfoys are born with—the innate ability to be utterly false. "Wonderful. I'll just show Harry around until then."

My mother's face strained ever so slightly. "Why don't you take Dudley along with you?"

Dudley looked no more happy to be going with us, than I was to have him. None of us said anything as we walked out to the stables. Harry was back to being stoic, and Dudley looked around with an arrogant expression on his face. An idea came to me.

**Have you kept up with your signing? **I spelled out. We hadn't gotten much farther than finger spelling before school let out. His cousin stared at my hands as thought I had committed a grievous crime and I only smiled.

He gave Dudley a nervous glance before nodding. **Yes. **

Dudley glared at Harry. He turned to me venomously. "What are you two doing?"

"**Signing**," I said innocently. "**It's how I talk, you know." Fucking moron. **Harry's eyes widened when he saw the last bit I had added in sign alone. I don't think he dared laugh.

Dudley stiffened. "Well, it looks ridiculous."

**Not half as ridiculous as you, fat ass. "Why would you say such an awful thing?" **Baiting him was more fun than messing with the Weasel.

"My dad's right. You are a freak just like him."

My blood ran cold with rage. **"Your dad is a fat, dickless lump just like you. You have no right to call anyone a freak, least of all someone like Harry."**

"Wait until my parents hear about this!" His face was bright red, but I didn't care.

I laughed. "**What will they do? Beg for forgiveness because their son is an ass? They don't have the guts to stand up to my family. If I were you, I'd choose my battles more carefully."**

My harshness must have prevailed, because he backed off and stalked back to the house. Harry glanced between the two of us frantically. "You're going to get me in trouble!"

"**They won't say anything," **I told him confidently. That didn't seem to put him at ease any more. **"Trust me."**

"I do trust you….and that's what scares me," he said.

My heart skipped a beat. More than anything, I wanted to be worthy of that. I wouldn't do anything else to jeopardize what we had right now.

The Dursley's left shortly after an icy meal. Though polite, my mother could have frozen the Atlantic if she'd wanted to. I totally ignored the lot of them, instead I watched Harry's ritual food shifting. Their departure wasn't quick enough for me. Being forced into their presence was not my idea of a nice way to spend the day.

When they were gone, Harry's mood lightened considerably. He'd found my extensive father's art collection, and I couldn't help but smile as I followed him room to room. I discovered that he preferred Degas to Mattisse, and Van Gogh to Gaughain. The painting that completely enthralled him was a late renaissance piece that my father had picked up in Italy. He studied every millimeter of the canvas muttering to himself. In truth, I'd never really paid much attention to the art and antiques in our home. They'd just always been there, but looking at it from Harry's point of view, our home was rather like a small museum. I'll never forget the look on his face when I told him they were all originals.

Later that night, I sat on his bed as he put away his clothes. **"Are they going to send the rest?" **I asked thoughtfully.

"This is all I packed," he replied sheepishly. "I wasn't sure how long you'd really want me here."

"**I want you here always!" **I said too much, and I knew it the instant I'd done it.

His beautiful green eyes stared at me with so much longing that I just wanted to grab him and never let go. Didn't he know how much I cared? How much his friends cared? How could he not know that he deserved to be loved? Then I remembered Dudley's words "My dad's right. You are a freak just like him." I had a gut feeling that Harry had dealt with that his entire life. I hated them for hurting him like that.

Shyly, I stood up to him face-to-face, and brushed back some of the wild strands of black hair from his forehead. He flinched slightly, but then relaxed when I put my hands on his shoulders. "Don't you ever think that I don't want you, or that you don't deserve it. You deserve everything you could ever dream of, Harry." I gently touched the lightning bolt shaped scar on his forehead.

"Why me, Draco?" he asked.

"Don't you know? Only the freaks and geeks are welcome here," I told him with a smile.

He smiled back, and it was the first time I had truly seen him smile since school had ended.


	8. Chapter 8

First off, this story has NOT been abandoned. I had to do some stuff for school, and I had to give up my computer time so that I could study. RL comes before HP...sorry. On the upside, I would like to thank my new betas SilentQuill and NiamhAingeal. Without them, I would not have continued.

Chapter 8

The first few days of Harry's visit weren't as picture perfect as I'd imagined. Rather than being relaxed and carefree, Harry seemed more withdrawn that he'd been at school. His first morning at my house, he barely touched his breakfast, and then began cleaning up the dishes. My mother simply raised a platinum brow at that, but I couldn't help myself. I began to laugh. "**Maria is paid to do that, Harry," **I told him. His face turned red, and I don't think he looked me in the eye again until lunch.

I tried everything I could think of to bring him out of his shell. I asked him to go swimming, I tried to get him to play video games, I took him to the basketball court, and finally I took him down to the stables. Harry's eyes were wide as he looked at the horses. He kept walking closer and closer to me, and then it dawned on me. "**Have you ever ridden?"**

He shook his head. "I've never even been this close to a horse before."

I smiled. **"I'll teach you to ride."**

Harry still looked fearful, but he nodded.

Gwenivere was the gentlest horse we had at the time. I knew she would be wonderful for Harry's first ride. I put her on a lead, and petted her velvet soft nose. She nudged at my shoulder playfully. **"This is Gwenivere."**

Harry stepped up timidly and raised his hand. He just held his hand there for a moment like he couldn't decide if it was safe. Gwenivere didn't give him a choice. She began sniffing Harry's outstretched hand. At first Harry stood still as stone, but he then began petting her. "She's beautiful."

Pride bubbled up inside of me. "**She is."**

"Was she the horse you were riding yesterday?"

I nodded. "**I love to ride and she loves to run."**

"You were both beautiful." The look on his face was so sincere when he said it. This wasn't the blank emotionless Harry that I saw so much of.

My heart skipped a beat in my chest. For an instant, I was sure that I had misunderstood. I couldn't believe that Harry had said it…. not that I didn't want to believe it. More than anything I wanted him to want me. He wasn't my first crush. My first crush had been a deaf friend of mine named Adam, but Adam hadn't made me feel near as much as Harry did. My feelings for Adam were young lust at its worst. I would sit and think about what it would be like to kiss him, but all in all Adam didn't matter to me. I didn't think about him when he wasn't around, but Harry seemed to always be on my mind. I was never nervous about how to act with Adam. With Harry, my stomach tied in knots, and I wasn't quite sure what to do. This was something new to me, and I was determined to figure it all out.

Playing it cool, I offered the rope to Harry. "**Just hold this," **I told him.

I went into the storeroom and found my western style saddle. It would be easier for his first time. I wanted to make things as easy on Harry as possible. Harry watched intently as I put the saddle on Gwenivere. I could feel his eyes on me the whole time, and I have to admit that I didn't mind the feeling.

I helped Harry mount, and had to hold back my laughter because he held to the reins for all he was worth. Correcting his grip, I felt my cheeks warm when my hands touched his. "Relax," I said, though I'm not sure who needed that more. "I'm just going to take the lead, and we'll go around the arena a few times."

He did loosen up as we went along. After a few minutes, I removed the lead and let Harry walk her around without me. His confidence seemed to be building. I couldn't wait until he was ready to really ride.

Dobby appeared along the fence, and I rolled my eyes. The annoying little man was always interrupting. I was about to stride over to him and put him in his place, when I saw that he was smiling at Harry. Harry was actually returning the smile. I watched in shock as he managed to dismount to talk to Dobby. This was not at all what I wanted. After all, I wasn't about to share Harry with anyone, least of all our butler. I made my way over and took the reins from his hands. Even my icy glare didn't dissuade the little man.

"You're looking very well, young Mr. Potter. I…" Dobby began. I could see the tears welling up in his eyes. "I haven't seen you since you were a baby. They wouldn't even let us in to see you in the hospital after the accident."

If I was shocked before, I was utterly dumbfounded now. I turned to Harry to see what he would say to that. "You knew my parents?"

Dobby nodded, and began half sobbing, half speaking. I couldn't make much out of that mess but I got a few words. "…good people……like family….just like…father….eyes…mother…..happy."

He wrapped his arms around a stunned Harry. In the entire time Dobby had worked for my family—which was as long as I could remember—I had never seen him act so boldly. Harry seemed to be more surprised than I was even. I remember how hesitant he had been to let me hug him at school, and that was after even knowing me. For an instant, I thought he was going to bolt out of Dobby's embrace, but then he seemed to relax. He even seemed to like the attention of the old butler. Feeling oddly out of place, I led Gwenivere back to the stables.

That evening I put in a new movie that I had bought. Harry never answered me when I asked him what he wanted to watch, so I had stopped asking. I flopped down on the plush couch, and sighed. "**What did Dobby have to say?"**

Harry shrugged. "He told me about what wonderful people my parents were. How they always treated him like family."

**"Isn't that a good thing?"  
**

"I don't know. Sometimes, I just wish people would stop telling me. That way I wouldn't…" Harry stopped mid-sentence. " What does it matter?"

**"You wouldn't what?" **

"I feel like such a disappointment." If I didn't know any better, I would have sworn he was joking. Harry was far from disappointing. Just about everything he did, he did well.

**"Who told you you're a disappointment?"**

"No one. Just forget I said it."

By that point my patience had worn thin. I admit it was not the right thing to do, but I completely lost my temper. **"I'm sick of it, Harry! Why are you so down on yourself all the time? Can't you see that they're the fuck-ups not you? The Dursleys are pathetic fat, obnoxious assholes. I can't believe that no one has locked them up for beating you! God knows they deserve it."**

"ENOUGH! They don't beat me! They aren't perfect, but I don't deserve any better. You don't understand!" he cried.

**"I'm going crazy trying to understand. Is it so hard to believe that it might not be about you? That there might be something wrong with them?"**

Harry sank back down to the couch. "My whole life I have known that there was something wrong with me. I want things that I shouldn't. And you….you only make it worse. I shouldn't have come here because I only want more when I'm with you." Tears slid down his cheeks. "With Dobby, it makes me wonder what my parents would think if they saw me now. Would I disgust them the way I disgust my aunt and uncle? But mostly, it makes me wonder why don't I disgust you? Why you have to make me want so much?"

**"What do I make you want so badly?" **

I knew I misread what he said next. I had to have been imagining it, but when I asked him again his answer didn't change. "You. You make me want you. I know it's twisted , but I want you."

I'm not sure if I was breathing right then. I felt like my heart was ready to burst. Somewhere in this argument I had found exactly what I had been looking for with Harry. Though I was still nervous, I had to let him know how I felt. **"There's nothing twisted about it, and if there is…I'm twisted too. Harry, I want you too."**

Anger had not been the reaction I wanted, but it was the first thing I saw in those beautiful green eyes. "Don't lie to me. You'd never want someone who looks like I do. Don't think I don't see the way you judge people. What I don't see is why you're playing these games with me!"

**"Christ, Harry, do you always have to be so difficult? So I judge people! It's how I am, but at least I don't spend my life judging myself," **I bit back bitterly. **"Is it so impossible for you to believe that you are beautiful to me? That somewhere along the line the scars stopped mattering to me? That I spent all this time worrying that you weren't gay, and that even if you were you wouldn't want a deaf guy?"**

"So maybe we're both screwed up," he said catching my wrist. "I'm sorry. I never wanted you to think that. I…I just…I don't know."

**"Tell me everything, Harry. I'll still be here no matter what you tell me," **I promised. "**If it's not the Dursley's then why do you think the way you do? I know you punish yourself, but I don't know why."**

Harry began pacing nervously. The thing with Harry was that he was always trying to see where the line was. Just how much could he trust me? I think maybe that day he came to a decision. He sat down and stared at the floor. I would have been pissed, but I could see that he was gathering his courage. This was not easy for him, and even back then I didn't make light of that.

When he looked up, his eyes were glittering with tears that his pride wouldn't let fall. "I do it because I deserve it. I look in the mirror and I see the freak that they tell me I am. My body is hideous, but it's what I think and do that makes it worse. I've always been screwing things up for other people—for you, for Ron, for my family, and for my parents. The crash….I was three when it happened but I know it was my fault. I wouldn't stop crying. If I hadn't cried, my parents would still be alive. I can't make up for it! Nothing I do can take it back."

I held him to me and let him cry. I wouldn't even loosen my hold on him to sign. "There was nothing you could do. Things happen, and they aren't your fault. If you remember correctly, I was the one who got you in trouble. I started things between us. It was me, Harry, not you."

When we both settled down, things got a bit awkward. We'd both come out to each other, but neither of us really knew where to start. For lack of anything else to do, I put in the movie and sat on the opposite end of the couch. Things had just taken a turn for the stranger, and I think Harry was every bit embarrassed and confused as I was…if not more.

The next day was no easier. We seemed to have the mutual idea that it was best if we each thought things through a little better. As usual, I went to the stables to vent, and took Gwenivere out for a run. Things weren't the same. I kept thinking of what a moron I had been. Harry had been right. I was judgmental, and it wasn't a big surprise that he would have a hard time believing that I had a crush on him. With everything that had happened in his life, I couldn't expect him to just magically make all of his insecurities disappear in one summer. Like father, like son. I had placed my expectations so high that there never was any hope of reaching them. We had to start over. I had to make things right between us.

I found Harry sitting at the art desk staring out the window. He must not have heard the door open, because he didn't turn. "I'm sorry," I said aloud.

He shifted in his chair, and shook his head. "It wasn't your fault."

**"Yes, it was. I pushed too hard. Harry, I hope you know that I only got angry because I care about you. I want to help you, but I don't know how, and that upsets me."**

"I shouldn't have gotten mad at you. I just don't know how to act now. I never really thought about being gay until I met you, and I'm still not even sure I am," he told me as his face turned red.

**"Have you ever kissed a girl before?"**

**"No."**

**"Have you had a crush on a girl before?"**

**"Yes….no…**sort of," he added aloud. "There was this girl at Hogwarts, **Cho Chang, **and I thought I liked her, but I could never picture being with her. I'm not sure what I thought." He squirmed uncomfortably. "How about you? How long have you known?"

I laughed. **"I have a friend named Adam. We both went to deaf school together, and we stayed friends over the years. I guess I started to have a crush on him two years ago, but he's not gay. I can't say I've ever really had a crush on a girl though."**

"And it doesn't bother you?"

I snorted at the thought. "**I decided a long time ago not to give a shit what people think."**

"What about your parents?" he asked.

That was a loaded question. Even I wasn't hypocritical enough to say that I didn't care. Of course, I cared! I wanted my father's approval more than anything in the world, but how could I answer that question. In the end, I decided to dodge it. "**I guess we'll see when they find out."**

"Ok. So what now?"

**"I don't know. I'll always be your friend," **I offered.

**Friend, **Harry copied. "I always liked that one. What's the sign for boyfriend?"

**Boyfriend**, I showed him.

He smiled, and repeated it. The word just looked right on his hands "I like that one too. Maybe someday we can try that one."

I nodded. He wasn't ready yet, but now that I knew he was at least not adverse to the idea. Things were looking up. It was time to get a little bolder.

That afternoon was hot. By lunchtime, I was already eyeing the pool longingly. Harry, of course, was still completely covered from the neck down, and I already knew that he wouldn't be keen on the idea of stripping down to a swimsuit. When my mother had asked if Harry would be more comfortable in shorts and a t-shirt, he had been polite, but he wouldn't budge an inch. The pool would wait. I was going to loosen Harry up one way or another even if it took time.

I showed Harry my favorite path through the woods on the far side of our property. It led down to a little stream that ran through a clearing. When I was taken out of school, my father had built a playhouse back here as a way of placating me. The playhouse was a miniature Tudor style cottage big enough to be considered a small home of its own. The front was well manicured with a tiny flowerbed, and a cobblestone walk leading to the door. The inside was divided into three small rooms with a loft above, and was entirely furnished. My father had even seen to it that there was running water and electricity in the cottage.

While Harry looked around, I took a seat on the couch, and pulled a few things from my bag. I had brought some snack food and soda, my laptop and a few DVDs, and a copy of _Sign Language for Beginners._ I thought that it would be nice to spend the day here alone.

Harry sat down beside me on the couch. "Your family doesn't do anything low key, do they?"

I smiled and shook my head. "**Of course not; we're Malfoys."**

He rolled his eyes, and laughed. "I think I understand you a little more now."

"**Do you?" **I asked coyly.

"I think so," he confirmed with his most serious face. "You are a complete brat!"

"**But I'm charming!" **I cried with mock indignation.

"Yes, you are."

His emerald green eyes were tying me into knots, and I just couldn't take anymore. **You need to learn your signs, **I told him with my hands.

A confused look crossed his face. **I don't understand.**

"**I know you don't. You need to learn your signs," **I said again with a laugh.

We spent the better part of the day going over what he had learned before school ended. I knew that the best way to learn any language was to be around it, and he hadn't seen me or signed to anyone since school ended. Despite a bit of rust, Harry seemed to catch back up rather quickly. His hands moved quickly and deftly forming each word. I couldn't wait for the day when I wouldn't have to speak anymore. Though I was good at it, I knew that even Harry had problems understanding me at times. I hated that feeling. I wanted to be able to go on for hours without reading lips or worrying if I was enunciating properly.

And those were only the problems on one end. For me, lip reading—more accurately known as speech reading—had always been a part of my life. I can't remember a time when my parents weren't jamming oral education down my throat. Some people just assume that I can understand every single word they say—that I am an absolute master at speech reading—but that isn't true. I'm very good at it…better than most, if you ask me. The point is that I still miss words. I catch what I can and put it together from there. Think of it kind of like reading a word with a few missing letters. You can still put it together, but it isn't always easy. No one at Hogwarts seemed to understand this, not even Blaise. Some days, it gave me such a headache that I would just go into the room to hide away for a while. No doubt about it, Harry learning how to sign would be a wonderful thing.

**Hungry? **I asked after we finished up.

**No, **Harry said frowning at the bag of chips I had brought.

**Ok, **I said putting the bag away. I had to keep the smile from my lips. I had devised a new way to deal with Harry's eating disorder. For some reason, my sixteen-year-old mind thought it was crazy enough to work.

It was almost seven when I finally glanced at the clock. I knew my mother wouldn't have thought anything of it. When Blaise stayed over, we would always forget to come in until late, and the cook would save us each a plate. Harry and I came in through the kitchen door to find our cook, Maria, doing dishes. She told us to go wait in the dining room, and again Harry offered to help.

"**Why do you do that?" **I asked when we were alone.

"I have to earn my place," he replied as if the answer was oh-so-obvious.

"**Who tells you this shit?"**

He set his jaw stubbornly. "Can't you just drop it?"

Pushing aside my pride, I did let it go. Maria brought out two heaping plates of roast and potatoes. Immediately Harry began his sorting, and I was careful to watch. That night I ate no more than he did. I had put part one of my plan into action. Though, that night in bed with my stomach protesting, I began to wonder if it had worked at all. I wasn't even sure if Harry had noticed. I knew that, when Harry did notice, he was going to have something to say about it.

No matter the obstacles, I was absolutely too stubborn to give in. I was going to help Harry By the end of the summer; he would know how to sign and how to ride. He would be eating normally. Most importantly, he would be mine.


	9. Chapter 9

As always, thanks to my betas and to everyone who reviewed.

Chapter 9

I was absolutely, completely, and utterly miserable. One week into my little hunger strike felt like a year. Already I was beginning to lose weight. The idea was that Harry would see how bad what he was doing to himself was and then start eating again. At first it was hard to tell whether Harry noticed. He still bordered reality his own little world most times. I was starting to get discouraged. Normally, this is when I would give up on someone. In the past, when friendships became too complicated or I became displeased, I had always simply dropped the person without a second thought. Harry was different. Rather than forgetting about it, I began examining other angles. I almost wished I had Granger's email address…key word "almost."

On the eighth day, I came down to breakfast, and watched Harry pick at his plate. The odd part was that there were no piles. He made a face that could best be described as tortured, and began to eat the food on his plate…all of it. Thanking God, I followed suit. Two platefuls of eggs and bacon and three bagels later, and I felt contentedly full for the first time since I'd put my plan into effect. My mother was staring at us with a rather concerned look on her face, but I didn't care. Harry took his plate to the sink—I had stopped trying to convince him not to—and excused himself. Neither of us said anything about it until Harry and I were again in my "playhouse."

Harry frowned at me. "You do realize how stupid that was, right?"

It took me a moment to understand what he meant. "**It's stupid when you do it too**," I countered.

He shook his head. The look on his face told me more plainly than words could ever: Harry was really and truly angry with me. "I'm just not going to argue with you anymore," he told me before storming out of the playhouse.

For a long time, I just sat there. I don't think I had ever been so stunned before. Most of the time, when Harry became angry, his rage was divided between himself and the cause. This time, however, it was all directed at me. Harry had always been so docile and laid back that seeing him angry was enough to have me sitting there like a moron staring at the door. After the initial shock, a wave of indignation hit me. How dare he get pissed off at me for just trying to help! Well, this time I wasn't going to run after him and apologize.

I headed for the stables to sulk, when I caught sight of a car pulling up the drive. It was an older Corvette painted candy-apple red, and I could barely see a man behind the wheel through the tinted glass. My curiosity took over. I followed the strange car up to where it was parked. By the time I caught up, the driver was already inside, and I began to examine it closely. I know next to nothing about cars. The one and only reason I knew that it was a Corvette was that they are rather distinct, and my father owned one similar to this one. On the passenger's seat sat a stack of brightly wrapped packages with Harry's name on the card.

No sooner did I reach for the doorknob, than Dobby came barrelling out like a shot. "Oh, so sorry! I was just coming to look for you, Mr. Malfoy. Do you know where Mr. Potter has gotten to?" Dobby was usually edgy, but this was extreme.

"No, I haven't," I said, still sulking.

"I must find him," said Dobby before hurrying off. The whole world had gone mad!

By the time I found my mother and the stranger in the blue parlour, I was about to go a bit insane myself. I had searched the usual places mother brought guests and found them all empty. The only time she entertained in the blue room was when she was extremely unhappy. She looked up when I opened the door. Already, she looked angry and her eyes glittered with animosity. She didn't bother to speak when she signed to me, **Dragon, where have you been?**

**Out with Harry. **

She nodded. **Where is Harry?**

**I don't know. We fought and he left. Is something wrong?**

My mother steadied herself. "**Draco, this is your cousin, Sirius Black….Harry's godfather." **

Only then did I turn to the man standing by the mantle. We studied each other carefully. My mother must have been introducing me, because he seemed to be listening to her. Sirius Black was easily the most handsome man I had ever seen in real life, I decided after a moment. He was tall, and slender with golden toned skin and long black hair pulled into a ponytail. His clothes were extremely stylish and expensive. The dark eyes that stared right back at me were wary as he offered his hand. I shook it tentatively. "Hello."

He smiled. "No denying you're a Malfoy," Sirius commented.

I was unsure if I had been insulted or not, so I said nothing as I took a seat between them. **He's an asshole, isn't he?**

**Don't swear, **my mother chided. **But yes, he is an asshole. **

Something told me that I did not want to miss this for the world. My mother's lips were held thin. She obviously didn't want me there, but knew I wouldn't leave without a fight. "As I was saying, I am not going to let you take him without the Dursley's consent. In fact, I think you should leave now," Mom told him sternly. Sirius didn't seem to like that. I didn't catch what he said, but it made my mother's cheeks flush. "Out now! I don't care what you have to say!" she cried.

Black rushed to clean up his mistake. "I didn't mean it, Cissa! I'm sorry. I understand I've put you in a bad situation, but you have to understand…."

I turned back to my mother just in time to catch the tail end of her reply. "…after saying that, I should just understand? How dare you imply that, and in front of my son!"

Her eyes turned to me. **Dragon, go to your room!**

**NO! **I shook my head stubbornly.

Black took the opportunity to begin pleading with my mother. He was a desperate man, even I knew that much. "Cissa, what I said was uncalled for, but please….Harry is all I have left in this world, and I haven't seen him since he was three! I'm begging you….let me see him even if it's just here."

My mother settled down onto the couch. **Go get Harry, **she told me.

I don't think there was a person at our home that day who wasn't looking for Harry. We all searched high and low for him, but it was like he had disappeared into thin air. Finally, I spotted him walking up with Maria from downstairs. I could have sworn that I saw her say something about Harry being to old to hide in closets. I couldn't figure that one out, but it would wait.

"**Harry, do you know who's here?" **I asked.

He just shook his head.

**"Sirius Black!"**

The color drained from Harry's face. "Is he angry with me?"

**"I don't think so. Why would he be?"**

"Because they wouldn't let me answer his letters. I never even got to read them. I saw them before Vernon burnt them, but I never knew what he wrote." Harry was shaking like a leaf.

"**Harry, all I know is that he wants to see you very badly," **I told him honestly. **"Do you want me to stay with you?"**

Harry nodded, and we walked to the blue room together.

For a long time, Harry and Sirius just stared at each other. "God you look just like James," Sirius said letting the joy spread across his face. He opened his arms for Harry, but Harry didn't move.

Harry looked like he was half scared to death. He bit his lip. "Everyone says that."

Sirius put his arms down. "Only because you do. Although James was taller when he was your age. I hear you're taking after him in hockey too. I wish I could see one of your games."

The air in the room was so stuffy that I couldn't stand it. Awkwardness had seeped into every inch of the parlour. "He was better than everyone last year, but this year I'll be playing," I said haughtily looking more toward Harry. I teased him constantly about it, and hoped it would get some sort of reaction.

I was rewarded with a small smile. "Shut up, Malfoy."

**"That's not very nice, is it?" **Sirius joked. I caught the wry amusement glittering in those black eyes. Very few people could get something like that by me. I hadn't even noticed him looking at my hands when we were talking about him earlier.

My cheeks flushed. **"You sign?"**

Sirius laughed, but I could tell he was still concentrating very hard. When he raised his hands again, they moved slowly and deliberately as he tried to recall the signs. "**I used to sign very well."**

Now I understood why my mother didn't like him. **You understood what we said and you didn't say anything? You just let us go on!**

**"Slow down. It's been years," **Sirius explained still laughing. He turned to Harry. "Your friend is quite the hot head. You should watch him. God only knows what would have happened if James and Remy hadn't been watching me."

I forgot my embarrassment when I saw Harry laughing. His eyes were sparkling. He had finally relaxed. "Dumbledore told me you and my father had a talent for causing trouble."

I didn't see what Sirius said next. Watching Harry come to life was so beautiful that I think the world could have fallen down around me and I wouldn't have noticed. And then a thought came to me: This was what Harry needed more than anything…even more than he needed me. I forced a smile. "**I'm going to go back down stairs."**

Harry was still laughing at whatever Sirius had told him. **"Ok."**

As soon as the door closed behind me, I let the hurt show. Someone had brought Harry out of his shell and it wasn't me. Granted it was wonderful to see, but I had wanted to be that person for Harry. I wanted him to love me for it. Combined with the fact that I still hadn't been forgiven for our earlier fight, the disappointment was almost unbearable. I hid out in my room for what seemed like eternity.

The lights flashed, and I spun around hoping it would be Harry. My mother stood in the doorway holding a file folder, and I frowned. **Is HE still here? **I asked sullenly.

**He is, **Mom confirmed. **Dragon, your father says that I baby you too much. That I don't give you enough opportunities to be a man. Well, I am going to treat you like a man today, and I need you to act the part.**

I nodded.

**When you first wrote your father about having Harry come here, the reason it took so long for him to reply was because he had a private investigator look into things a bit. There were some rumours… Anyway, I let Sirius take Harry out for some pizza. Probably not my best idea, I know, and your father won't be happy, but I don't plan on telling anyone. You'll have time for some reading. **She laid the folder on my computer desk, and I could tell that she was still fighting the urge to take it away. **Dragon, chances are that you won't like what is in there. I'd thank you not to let Harry know about this.**

**Is it all that bad? **I asked. If it was that bad, maybe I didn't want to know.

My mother shook her head. It's not a happy story, by any stretch of the imagination. It's not too bad. It's just strange.

I touched the folder as if it were a snake about to bite me. Mom was right; I needed to act like a man. I turned the first page.

_Mr. Malfoy,_

_Here is the information that you requested. I do have to admit that this is perhaps on of the most bizarre situations I have ever investigated._

_The basics of the story are a matter of public record. Harold James Potter born July 3, 1983. James and Lily Potter were killed October 31, 1986 when the helicopter they were in experienced technical problems just after take off and crashed (Ruled to be mechanical failure). Three- year-old Harry was treated for third degree burns over sixty percent of his body. The day after the crash Vernon and Petunia Dursley petitioned the courts for custody of Harry citing Sirius Black as an unfit parent. That much could have been taken from various headlines._

_Your suspicions that the Dursleys are not exactly normal were correct. Both Vernon and Petunia Dursley have nothing more than a few parking tickets on their records. Petunia is, by all accounts, a devoted housewife and mother to Dudley. Vernon's employment you already know about, I am sure. Though there is no proof that they have ever physically abused Harry, everyone I talked to seems to have noticed some odd behaviour between the boy and his guardians. Neighbours have told me about the lavish birthday parties they throw for Dudley, but no one can seem to recall anything about Harry's own birthday. In fact, some of them were not even aware that Harry is living there. I have enclosed some reports done by social workers and child psychologists who spoke with Harry through the custody battle. The general consensus is that Harry is a very shy boy, and the Dursleys are very much focused on their own son. It seems to me that, had Mr. Black not been in so much trouble, he would have had no problem securing custody as stated in the Potters' will. I have also included some of the paper work on Black's history—which again I am sure you are already aware of._

_As to the Potter estate, so far the Dursleys have not been able alter terms of the will. You must keep in mind that the Potters never intended for the Dursleys to have Harry. All of the provisions in the will were made under the assumption that Mr. Black would be the legal guardian. Before his death, James Potter turned Potter Oil's operation over to the board of directors- who have done very well with the company since that time – in order to concentrate on doing humanitarian aide work with his wife. Two million dollars was earmarked to be donated to the charities he worked with at the time of his death, and another three million was bequeathed to the Dursleys in hopes that it would be enough to placate them. The rest of the money was to be held in trust for Harry until his eighteenth birthday. It was almost impossible to find detailed information on the exact amount Harry will inherit, but I managed and have enclosed that information for you as well. Given that Black still holds a vast fortune of his own, he was to be given only a yearly sum of two hundred thousand dollars for the care of Harry. Young Potter's education and scholastic expenses are not included in this amount. There was a separate account set up under the control of by one Albus Dumbledore. With so much money tied up in various places, it is no wonder that the Dursleys have been unable to undo the will. As of the date of this letter, they have incurred more legal bills in keeping him than they received from the yearly stipend—and they make no secret of this fact._

_All of the documents that you requested are attached. I did manage to get everything you asked for as well as a few other tidbits. If you wish to know more, you know how to contact me._

John Aimes 

I felt a strange feeling of foreboding as I flipped through the remaining pages. In just a couple short hours, I learned more about Harry than I had in the entire time I'd known him. He attended a separate elementary school from Dudley. Teachers there commented on Harry's small size and reclusive nature, but he got next to perfect grades. At Hogwarts….well, I knew that already. Next were his medical records, and there was surprisingly little there. A few yearly check ups, a broken wrist at nine, and the concussion this past year. All of the doctors noted that he was underweight. The psychologists that saw Harry during the custody battles all concluded that Harry was not as socially adept as most children his age. He was quiet and a bit frightened when the Dursleys were out of sight. They all concluded that he was trying to win the love that Petunia gave to Dudley. The records on the Dursleys were mixed. The social workers that visited all noted how extremely they favored their own son. They seemed to be uncommonly detached from Harry.

I was hard pressed to see why Harry was still with these people, but my questions were answered when I came to the section entitled Sirius Black. Black's history was filled with misdemeanours and minor felonies. The first offence was aggravated assault at eighteen followed by a mess of drug charges and DUIs. He had been cited for resisting arrest just two years ago. All in all, he had only served sixty days in jail on the resisting arrest charge and gotten off light on the rest. Aside from the criminal charges, Black had been in several drug rehabilitation programs for cocaine addiction. He even had an involuntary commitment to Azkaban Mental Institution after an attempted suicide using Vicoden and vodka.

My head was spinning. No wonder Harry had problems. The people he lived with made it blatantly clear they didn't want him and the only one who did want him was a convicted criminal. But how could they just discard him like that? Surely they had to know what he was doing to himself! Why didn't they care? And why would they pay so much money to keep going to court if they didn't want him? What the fuck was going on in the Dursley household? Something told me my father was paying John Aimes to find out.

I shoved the file folder in the drawer, and spent the rest of the day on the Internet. It was already evening when I saw headlights coming up the drive. Harry was still laughing and smiling when he came through the door with Sirius carrying various hockey gear. I stayed back, and watched. There was no hesitation as Harry wrapped himself around Sirius. The older man looked on the verge of tears as he kissed Harry's forehead. I didn't get to see what he said, but I could see that it made Harry happy. Sirius left, and I came down the stairs.

"**Have fun?" **I asked.

He nodded. "Sirius told me all kinds of things about my parents and their friends."

The glow hadn't left Harry that night when we sat down to watch movies. It seemed I was the only one who remembered that morning's fight, and I wasn't sure that was a good thing. When I brought out the popcorn, Harry ate some, albeit with a strange look on his face. So long as he was eating, I decided, I would let things go. I couldn't tell him about Sirius either. He was just too happy. I simply convinced myself that things were getting better, and for the time they did.

People have an odd way of blocking out what they don't want to see or hear. I only have to worry about half of that, really. The next week went by almost as if it were a dream. Harry and I spent our days signing and playing basketball. I even managed to get Harry riding half decently. There was so much that I didn't notice until it all fell down, and when it did I was faced with a harsher reality than I had ever expected.


	10. Chapter 10

AN- Just a couple of things before I want to let you know. I have started to post the "prequel" to this story as well. "You Belong To Me" may be a bit of a spoiler for this story if you want to find out the story behind SSRL along with Draco and Harry. I will try to update bi-weekly "Freaks and Geeks" one week and "You Belong to Me" the next. PLEASE read the warning before you read "You Belong To Me." Thanks.

Chapter 10

The days leading up to Harry's birthday were flying by. Though I never once told him that I knew when it was, I was racking my brain trying to decide what to get him. He had next to nothing, as far as I could tell, but that didn't make my decision any easier. I wanted to find something that would mean something special to him. To make matters worse, Harry seemed to be becoming distant again. All I could hope was that his birthday would show him how much I cared about him.

I found him in the garden one morning drawing our gardener. I loved to watch him draw. He became a living contradiction with the most serene look on his face and the most intense glow in his eyes. His hand flew across the page diligently as he captured even the intricacies of his subject. Every so often he would stop and cock his head to the side as he studied the gardener a bit more. He bit his lip ever so slightly as he went back to his work. The best part about watching Harry like this was that he was so entranced in his work that he didn't even notice me. I was free to watch him as much as I pleased. I didn't have to worry that he would see the way I stared at him. Part of me wanted to stay there forever watching the sunlight glisten in his black hair as he drew. Suddenly, an agonized expression crossed his face. He tore the page from the sketchbook and crumpled it up.

For some reason, I couldn't bring myself to ask him about it when I finally went up to him. **Good morning**, I signed.

Harry faked a smile. "You're finally out of bed."

I nodded. It had been a big shock for Harry to find out that I normally slept in until ten o'clock during the summer. **"What do you want to do today?" **I asked lightly.

Harry shrugged. "**I don't know."**

In truth, I hadn't expected a real answer. By this point, I realized that telling people what he wanted was a foreign concept to Harry for the most part, but I'd be lying if I said that I didn't like that. "**Want to go to the city for the day?" **

He nodded, and began collecting his sketchbook and pencils. It had been ages since he'd let me look at his work. I didn't think anything of it when I reached out and took the book from him. Harry pulled it back as soon as my hand touched the cover. His face turned red, and he held the book to his chest. I saw the fear that clouded his eyes. "Please don't," he said.

**"Why not? Harry, I've seen your drawings before, and I think they're great…. even the ones of Weasel." **

A mocking smile came to his lips. "Do you?"

I nodded, but I really didn't know what to say. I didn't even know what was wrong. Watching him walk away, all I could do was wonder what had really set him off. Then I had another epiphany: For as close as I thought I had gotten to Harry, I still didn't know anything about him. It felt like a knife had been shoved in my chest. The pain was something that had become real enough to feel. Hot tears stung my eyes. I knew my father would consider me weak for crying, but I had taken on more with Harry than I had in my entire life. This whole time I had been trying to be mature and understanding, but right then I was sobbing like a little boy with skinned knees. For a long time, it didn't even occur to me that someone might see me, but then I wiped my eyes and looked up.

My mother was standing there in front of me. I tried my best to regain my composure, but it all fell apart again when she opened her arms to me. She just let me cry. I laid my head on her chest and felt the vibrations there. It had long been her habit to sing to me even though I couldn't hear it. My father mocked her for it when I was a child, but it is perhaps one of the things I loved best about her. When my eyes had dried, she brushed the hair from my forehead, and smiled. **What's wrong, my dragon?**

**Harry and I fought.**

**Should Harry go home? **she asked frowning.

**No, **I signed adamantly. **I want him here with me.**

She sighed. **And that's the problem isn't it?**

I nodded.

**Dragon, some people don't understand how to be close to another person, **she signed slowly. I don't really think that she was talking about Harry anymore. Mom had her own problems too, but at sixteen I wasn't inclined to see that side of things.

That day seemed to go on forever. I saw Harry at lunch, but after eating, he rushed off as usual. By the time Maria came back in to collect the dishes, I resigned myself to more feuding between the two of us. I felt a tap on my shoulder. Maria was standing in front of me with a worried expression. "Are you sure your friend's feeling alright? He's been sick an awful lot," she said.

A sudden wave of panic hit me. "Did you hear him?"

She nodded.

I walked to his room with a leaden feeling in my stomach. I had read about bulimia and anorexia in a magazine a while ago. There had been an article on a girl who had suffered with both and struggled for most of her life before being able to eat normally again. I can't say why I thought that Harry would just miraculously get over it. Ignorance is bliss and I was never one to deny myself.

Harry was spread out across the bed staring at a book I had never seen before when I opened the door. He looked up at me curiously. "I'm not going to say I'm sorry about this morning."

I sniffed. "**Good because I'm not either…. but this isn't about that."**

Harry rolled his eyes and shut the book. "What?"

"**Do you trust me at all?**"

I don't think he was expecting that question. For a long time, he simply stared at me. "Why do you care? I do what you want, when you want. Is there really anything more you could want from me?"

"**Fuck you!" **

"You manipulated me into doing whatever the hell you wanted. You can't just leave things alone…EVER! I thought I wanted to be your friend, but now I really wonder why!"

Not a single thought entered my head until after I had already acted. I never really decided to hit him—I just did. Standing there with my chest heaving, all I could do was watch as he touched the blood dripping from his lip. Green eyes locked on me furiously just before he retaliated with a blow of his own. Mere seconds later we were pounding away at each other on the floor. Harry was still stronger than I was, but this time I was truly angry. I managed to pin his arms above his head and hold him down. "You really are crazy, Potter!"

"Then why do you care? WHY?"

Once I started answering that question, I didn't stop…. though I'm not sure just how much of it was understandable because enunciation went out the door as I ranted, "Because…. because I don't have a fucking clue! I don't understand it either, but I love you! You drive me insane, but I still love you, damn it! Not everyone is going to tell you what a screw up you are. I think the only thing that's really fucked up about you is _them_, but you won't see that and just tell them to go to fucking hell. Instead you starve yourself to death because you think you've done something wrong. I'm sick of it, Harry! I want you to be safe and happy. I want to help you, but you make it so God damn hard."

Harry stopped struggling beneath me. "You aren't easy to understand either."

I let go of him, and sat down on the edge of the bed. "**What's so hard to understand about me?"**

**"**Why wouldn't you choose someone else?" Harry was looking at me just like he did that day in the rain.

**"Because I don't think there is anyone else like you." **

"I don't know what to do, Draco. Sometimes I think Vernon's right when he says the world would just be better off without me."

A sickening thought came to me. "**He told you that?"**

Harry nodded. "I would have done it this summer. That's why I wanted you to have the sketchbook. I had a plan and everything."

Now it was my turn to ask: **"Why?"**

He was trembling a little. "I'm tired of being alone. Hermione and Ron…. they don't know. I don't think Ron ever wondered why I never changed in our room. He saw the scars once and told me how gross they were, but I don't understand how you can stand to look at me, and not get that look on your face that everyone else has when they see them. You make me feel like there really is someone else in the world, Draco."

**"I'm here, Harry. I'm not going to leave you, and I'm not letting you leave either. Malfoys don't give up easily."**

He smiled. "Apparently not." Harry reached out and touched my cheek. I winced. "I'm sorry I hurt you."

**I'm sorry, too, **I told him in sign. It was something I was sure he would understand, and I wasn't sure I trusted my voice right then.

My brain was still trying to piece together everything that had just happened. Within ten minutes we had been through a fistfight, a love confession, and an admission that Harry had been suicidal. All of it just came crashing down on me at once, and I could barely look at him. I stared at the wall with my head spinning, but then it stopped. I was pulled back against Harry's chest. His arms felt wonderful as they wrapped around me. I closed my eyes and simply enjoyed the feeling for a long time. It was the first time Harry had ever initiated any kind of contact between us. When I finally did pull away to face him, my eyes were glistening with tears.

"I can't make any promises, Draco, and I can't say anything just yet."

"**Harry, I just want you to try."**

Harry nodded. "I will, but don't expect too much from me."

That evening, we settled in on the couch in my room together. I laid my head up against his chest, and even then I could feel how thin he had gotten. I was so scared for him. Even the joy of being with him, and having him open up to me couldn't take away the intense fear I felt. I now knew in my heart that my help alone would not be enough. Harry needed someone else on this, and I wasn't sure where to go on that. Given what I had seen of the Dursleys, I knew that they wouldn't help at all. There was only one person who could get things done through anything. Right now, I was ready to play with fire and hope that Harry didn't get burned. I decided to wait until Harry went to bed to email my father.


	11. Chapter 11

Sorry I have been AWOL for so long. I had some serious writer's block. Big thanks to SilentQuill and NiamhAingeal for being my betas!

Chapter 11

I woke up the morning after our fight and instinctively glanced over at the clock. It was a rare thing when I was up even a minute before I absolutely had to be, but that day I was off kilter from the beginning. Everything that had happened between Harry and I had me on overload. I needed some kind of reprieve from the next round.

With Harry staying with us, I had neglected the stables more than I had ever before. Guinevere seemed rather desperate for attention that day. She nudged my hand with her nose as if to tell me that it was her turn now. I laughed, and petted her. She was one of the few "people" who could be as demanding and persistent as I was. **It's going to be just us for a while, girl, **I signed.

My first trip around the arena, I went fairly slowly. When I was a kid, I had wanted more than anything to get into the jumping competitions, but my mother was always afraid that I'd get hurt. She never saw me really ride the way I wanted to. When I was on Guinevere, it was like we shared a brain. She would react to the slightest nuances of my mood. I think that's what made it so special for me. I didn't have to clarify anything. It was strange that my horse seemed to understand me better than any one person in my life.

I had just put Guinevere back in her stall when I felt a tap on my shoulder. My father looked out of place in the stable wearing an Armani suit. He wrinkled his nose as if to accent that very notion. "There had better be a very good reason for this, Draco."

I nodded, and squirmed uncomfortably. "Can we go inside?"

My father had a way of putting me on edge like no one else ever could. Maybe it was because it seemed like I was always under a microscope with him. Whatever it was, I never really got over it. As we walked up to the house, I was keenly aware of the way he stared at my dirty hands and jeans. It was all beneath him. I was beneath him.

By the time we were settled in his study, I was beginning to doubt the wisdom of my little plan. "I didn't think you'd come so quickly," I told him nervously.

He raised a silvery brow at that. "Draco, I don't have time for games. If there is a problem, I will handle it. Now what was so important that you had me come all the way from the city?"

"It's Harry," I began. "I read the file you had on him."

A thin smile touched his lips. "Did you? I knew your mother would give it to you eventually."

Shit. I realized too late that I had betrayed my mother's trust. "No, I found it on my own," I lied. I could tell that he didn't believe me, but that didn't matter.

My father's smile only widened. "I wanted you to read it, Draco. You're old enough to know things now, and you're old enough to come to your own conclusions. What did you think of it?"

My hands ached to sign, but I knew that would get me nowhere. "I can only think of one thing, and I hope I'm wrong." I stopped. Even in sign, I don't think I could have gotten the words out right then.

"And what if you aren't? What if I agree with you? It's not what's in that file, Draco, but what's not that is important. I'm sure you realize what that means." The grim look in his gray eyes told me that he had come to the same conclusion that I had.

"They want him to kill himself."

"Very good, Draco. I knew you would figure it out eventually." His features darkened. "The Dursleys are a sick bunch. They don't stand a shot at getting their hands on the Potter fortune so long as Harry is alive. If he dies suspiciously, that wouldn't look good for them, but if it was clearly suicide…"

"There's no one left to inherit but them." My stomach was turning. It all made sense now. Every insult was a planned attack on Harry's sanity. He thought of himself as a freak because that was how they had taught him to think. Harry had been raised only so that he could kill himself.

"Harry is an interesting boy," he began. "I am truly surprised he's lived as long as he has. The file I gave your mother is incomplete. I knew that you would read it, and there were certain things that I was still piecing together myself, but I see no point in keeping it from you now. The Dursleys are fighting to get Harry out of Hogwarts. They claim that the school is to blame for Harry's recent depression. Petunia gave a heartfelt plea to the judge at the last hearing, but Dumbledore came through. He may seem the sweet old man, yet I don't know many people who would have him for an enemy. Dumbledore's mentored everyone from Supreme Court justices to congressmen to the wealthiest businessmen in America. From what I can tell, he loves Harry like a son."

"But why would you care if I knew that?" I asked.

"Dumbledore is exactly the type of person they don't want Harry around….and so are you. I got a call from Vernon last week telling me what kind of trouble Harry has been in since he met you. He wanted Harry sent home."

Anger flashed over me. "You won't send him!" I cried.

Smiling, my father shook his head. "Of course not, I have other plans for my dear cousin's godson."

"You're going to help Sirius get Harry back? But what about all of the scandal?"

"Unavoidable, I'm afraid. And Sirius has done so much to get himself put back together—how could I turn my back on family…especially after his little visit?"

My mouth dropped. "You knew about that?"

"I own these walls. What makes you think I don't know what goes on within them?" Right then I knew that Harry's eating disorder was no secret. I didn't know how he knew, but I think he knew everything that we had done this summer with only a few exceptions.

"Then you know that Harry's been sick?" I asked shakily.

My father nodded. "You need to trust me to take care of things, Draco." He straightened his tie, and I could tell that was the end of the matter. "I'll be taking your mother to lunch," he added.

Our conversation left me a little more relaxed. I knew that my father would never fail at something like this. No, there was too much to be gained from Harry. I wasn't naive enough to mistake my father's concern for compassion, but at least Harry would be away from those vultures.

I found Harry in his room at the art desk. In front of him was a drawing of Ron and Hermione. Even though I really couldn't stand the pair, I had to admit that I liked the piece. "**Do you miss them?" **

Harry turned and smiled at me. **"Yes. I know you don't like Ron."**

I laughed because Harry used the sign that I had given Ron. **"I don't," **

I agreed. **"Hermione isn't too bad."**

Harry shrugged. "They're still my best friends….other than you," he added. "I spent a week at Ron's last summer. Vernon got nervous when Mr. Weasley mentioned that he was in the FBI, and let me go. The other Weasleys are all great….well, except Percy. Mrs. Weasley even made me a sweater for Christmas."

By the end of our conversation, I was already getting a very good idea of what to do for Harry's birthday. That night, I logged onto the Internet using Harry's password. (Figuring out that his password was "Gretzky" wasn't very hard.) There were only two email addresses in his saved folder, and that didn't surprise me in the least. I decided that it was best to let Granger talk Weasel into my plan. Somehow, I didn't think that he'd willingly go along with anything I suggested.

It turned out I was right. The next morning I received an email from Granger:

_Draco,_

_It's good to hear that you and Harry are getting along alright. I had been worried about that. I'd really love to be a part of this. Ron might not agree to it at first, but I know I can get him to go along with it for Harry's sake. Despite what you might think, Ron isn't a bad person. _

_See you then,_

_Hermione_

The thirty-first came in the blink of an eye. I still hadn't let on that I knew it was his birthday that morning, and Harry didn't seem bothered at all by that fact. He was sitting contentedly on a bale of hay in the barn drawing a picture of Guinevere when I found him. **"Where were you?" **he asked when he saw me come in.

I had been inside working out the last few minor details. I shrugged. "**Emailing Blaise**. **He's wants us to come out and spend the day at his house."**

"Would you mind if I just stayed here?" he asked with a frown.

**"You have to come. Blaise thinks you hate him."**

"I do not!" Harry said adamantly. He set aside his sketch book, and ran a hand through his hair. "I just don't want to go anywhere today."

"**We won't be long,"** I told him.

Finally, he crack. His shoulders heaved in a heavy sigh, and I could see the resignation in his eyes. **"OK."**

**"Let's get going. I want to be out there by lunch," **I said casually. This was harder than I'd imagined.

All the way in the back of our car, I kept stealing glances at him as we rode. Harry looked sad, and it was hard for me to feign ignorance. I knew that he thought I didn't notice, but how could I not see the pain in his eyes. I hoped that my surprise would be enough to banish that look. I wanted to make up for the disappointment he'd felt on all the other birthdays. I wanted Harry to see that I was glad that he was born.

We made it to Blaise's house earlier than I would've liked. I kept telling Blaise to stall every time Harry looked away. Luckily, being fashionably late was always Blaise's forte. He managed to shave off over an hour, and I breathed a sigh of relief when we pulled up to the restaurant right on time.

I had chosen an upscale Asian place for the occasion. I knew that Harry wouldn't really appreciate the cuisine as much as the atmosphere. As soon as we stepped in to the elegant building, Harry's attention instantly went to an antique Japanese scroll on the wall. I couldn't help but smile. Blaise practically had to drag him away from the jade statues to get him to the back room.

The entire back room was filled with friends. The Weasley clan had made it, as had Hermione, who was responsible for the rest of the guest list. Neville Longbottom, Luna Lovegood, Seamus Finnegan, Angelina Johnson, Colin Creevy, and Dean Thomas had all made the trek into the city for the party. Despite the fact that none of them were my friends, I couldn't be happier. For a moment, I don't think Harry was able to really understand what was happening. The look of absolute shock across his face was enough to make me want to cry. He really didn't understand that this was for him. Then, a frumpy red-haired woman—none other than Mrs. Molly Weasley—came rushing up to Harry and crushed him in a giant hug. I didn't even attempt to try and figure out what she was saying, but it did seem to make Harry smile. I think that was when it really sunk in for Harry that every person in this room was there because of him.

Hermione came up to me with a wide smile. **"Nice work."**

I shrugged. **You too. **I glanced over at Ron who was scowling at me from the other side of the room. **I can't imagine it was easy to get him here.**

**It wasn't as bad as you'd think. He's Harry's best friend, and I don't think even you can change that**, she told me.

I looked over to see Harry engulfed in a sea of Weasleys. I had, of course known Ron from school, and I recognized the younger girl, as well as the twins and Percy. Behind them were two young men who looked to be in their twenties, and a man about my father's age. I studied the group from a distance, until Harry waved me over. He introduced me to each one spelling out each name deftly in sign.

Ron stayed back from us for the most part. I had to fight the urge to roll my eyes at his stupidity. Deciding that it was for Harry, I found an excuse to go find Blaise. From the corner of my eye, I caught Harry and Ron laughing.

On my way over, I was hailed by the petite Asian man with whom I had set up the party. He squirmed uneasily, and I knew something was wrong. It only took a few sentences to realize that this moron couldn't grasp the concept of speaking slowly and clearly, and I turned to Blaise, who was laughing. **It seems Mrs. Weasley refused to let them use the cake from the bakery, **he told. **She brought one that she made. **

Biting back my anger, I followed a waiter to the kitchen to inspect the cake. To my absolute horror, it was a huge lopsided thing piled high with chocolate icing, and "Happy Birthday Harry" written in tacky Gryffindor red and gold. By now, Blaise was in stitches. I buried my face in my hands. Breathing deeply, I regained my composure.

**Tell them to bring out this…thing for the singing, and then bring out the cake later, **I told Blaise irritably. In my mind, this nearly ruined the perfect vision I had for the party.

When the lopsided abomination came out though, Harry's eyes were wide with joy. I could hardly believe it. As the lights dimmed, I fidgeted. Everyone around me was singing, and Blaise later assured me that it was one of the times I should be glad to be deaf. I watched Harry's eyes reflecting the light of the tiny flames. He looked so happy. Perhaps ever happier than he had after his day with Sirius. Mrs. Weasley came up beside him, and planted a motherly kiss on his forehead after he blew out the candles. Then it hit me: Harry really missed out on that part of life. All of my doubt about the party washed away.

Harry took his time opening gifts. He was truly grateful for each one, not just putting on a good face. Even the book that Hermione got him warranted a smile. I could hardly wait until I gave him my gift, but that was going to be something for later.

I hung back from the crowd for most of the parties. I always felt awkward at things like this. My deafness left me somewhat disconnected from the group. For as happy as I was at that moment, part of me was wishing that things could be different. Many of my deaf friends only dated other deaf people, and I understood why. Things were easier when there weren't any misconceptions or barriers between two people, but I knew I wouldn't trade Harry for anyone in the world.

The party lasted until the early evening, and I was thankful to have Harry to myself again. In the car, I watched him put the privacy barrier up before he slid next to me in the seat. **Thank you.**

I smiled. **"Happy Birthday, Harry."**

"Draco, I…No one has ever done that for me. How did you know?" he asked blushing slightly.

**"Hermione," **I lied. I didn't want him to know anything about the file. God only knows what he'd say if he knew everything that my father was starting. Would he be pleased? Something told me that his pride wouldn't allow it. For now, I reasoned, it was better for him to think that Hermione had told me.

He nodded. "Draco, I…" His face was now bright red.

I laughed**. "Are you ever going to finish that sentence?"**

Without a word, he leaned in and kissed me. I was so shocked that I barely registered his tongue slipping past my lips until I was pulling him in tighter. God, I'd been waiting for this! To hell with patience, every thought left my head. Kissing Harry was even better than I'd imagined it would be. I never wanted to let him go, but I felt the car come to a halt. Neither of us realized that we had been making out for almost the entire hour-and-a-half-long drive.

We both scrambled to opposite ends of the seat, and did our best to feign disinterest. Looking back, it blows my mind that we ever thought we were being discreet. I couldn't wipe the cat-that-ate-the-canary grin off of my face, and Harry's bottom lip was slightly swollen. My mother must have known. She would have been blind not to see it as we rushed up the stairs to the privacy of my room.

Harry was shy again once the door was closed. This time, it was my turn to take the first step. I pulled him toward me cupping his face. My hormones were raging in ways that I'd never experienced before. I wanted to strip his clothes off right then and there, but I couldn't…not yet. Even my testosterone-blurred mind couldn't change that. Harry trembled slightly, and I pulled back. **"Why did you wait so long?" **I demanded.

"I was afraid you wouldn't want me," he replied. I could tell he was fighting the urge to look away.

**"You're joking? Why wouldn't I want you?" **He raised an eyebrow, and gave me a look that said: Isn't it obvious? I sighed heavily. "**God, Harry, I've wanted you forever."**

He laughed. "Once you stopped hating me!"

I sniffed indignantly. **"Well, Potter, look at who you hang out with."**

We both laughed at that. It felt wonderful to be just us, and even better to have finally kissed him. I wondered how much farther we could go at this point, but pushed that thought to the back of my mind. I decided that it was time for a distraction. **"I didn't give you your present yet."**

"But the party…"

**"Wasn't it," **I said cutting him off. I pulled a large box out of my closet.

He stared at it for a moment, and then carefully began to undo the gold ribbon. I had nearly gagged wrapping the thing in more ugly red and gold, but I knew he'd appreciate it. Now, I wanted to see him shred the paper, but he was very careful about not ripping it. Finally, the lid was off and he pulled out one of several smaller boxes nestled inside. Thankfully, he went much quicker with these. The first one was an art book I had seen him eying at the store on the impressionists. He smiled up at me, and I motioned for him to keep going. Next came boxes filled some of the art supplies I knew he wanted: oil paints, charcoals, pastels, and a number of fine brushes. With two more to go, he picked the smaller of the pair. It was a box filled with several of his favorite DVDs, and that seemed to puzzle him. I knew that he didn't have a way to watch them at home. I smiled as I watched the paper. He pulled out a new laptop nearly identical to my own.

"Draco, are you sure? I mean this is really expensive."

I laughed. **"Dad doesn't even look at my credit card bills anymore." **

He rolled his eyes. Harry had been with me on some of my trips into Neiman Marcus. "I don't even know what to say. **Thank you."**

I couldn't resist the temptation to kiss him again. From now on, I knew that things were going to be different between us.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

**"NO, Draco," **Harry told me adamantly. He'd been refusing to go with me all day, and it was becoming annoying.

Stubborn as ever, I tossed a towel over my shoulder.** "I can teach you how to swim." **

"That's not the only reason I won't go and you know it!" he cried. As if to prove his point, he pulled at his long sleeves and crossed his arms. Though he didn't hide the scars from me anymore, I knew that going out where other people could see them was still not an option. One way or another, though, I was going to change his mind eventually.

**"I'm going to the pool," **I told him plainly.

By the water, I dipped my feet in, and gave a little smile. Well, I thought, at least he's standing up for himself about something. I sank into the cool water and swam a few strokes. My parents had started me in swimming lessons when I was five. Mother always used to tell me that she would have sworn that I had gills. Next to riding, swimming was my favorite thing to do over the summer. Usually, I spent just about every day in the pool. I had been so busy with Harry this year that I hadn't come down here much at all.

Looking up from under the water, I saw a figure standing next to the edge of the pool. Initially, I assumed Harry had changed his mind. I surfaced, and immediately wanted to go back under.

My father stared down at me with a half smile. "I knew I'd find you here," he said with amusement. I had rarely seen my father like this since I was a small child. It was like the ice around him had thinned some. He was even dressed slightly differently. Khakis and a light polo shirt were what amounted to sweats for a normal person with my father.

I climbed out of the pool and took the towel when he offered it to me. "Why are you here?"

"Do I need a reason to come home?" he countered. His eyes lost a bit of their softness, and I was sorry I'd asked.

I shook my head. "You're never home during the week is all that I meant," I corrected.

A wolfish look took over his features. "Draco, we're having a little dinner party tonight. I expect you to be on your very best behavior."

"Who's coming?"

He didn't answer. Instead, he looked back at the water. I'll never pretend that I understood my father. He operated in ways that astounded the rest of the world. "Make sure that you and Harry aren't dressed like vagabonds when they arrive….especially Harry."

"Dad, is something going on?" I asked hesitantly.

"Do you remember going to the Riviera when you six? It took us hours to get you out of the water, and then you screamed all night when you finally felt the sunburn." He smiled.

"I never wanted to leave," I said remembering how perfect things seemed. "Can we go back again sometime?"

"Maybe," he replied tersely. Once again, he was deep in thought. I noticed how he was fingering something in his pocket, and I thought I saw a hint of pink poking out.

That night, I watched Harry change. He was less self-conscious about letting me see his body now, and for that I was glad. I had made sure that he wore the dark green shirt and charcoal pants I had bought for him on our last shopping trip. He, of course, had sworn he'd never wear them, but I had managed to get him to give in. Harry squirmed uncomfortably in front of the mirror. "You look good," I told him from the bed.

He turned and gave a half smile. "I'm dressed like you."

I nodded. "**And it's an improvement**."

**"Thanks," **he told me rolling his eyes. He pulled at his sleeves in a vain attempt to cover the backs of his hands. "Who do you think is coming to dinner?"

I shrugged. "**Probably just some of his business associates."**

Harry didn't look like he wanted any part of it, and I couldn't say I blamed him. Without a care for wrinkling his clothes, Harry flopped down on the bed beside me and pulled me over towards him. It didn't take much persuasion. Since his birthday, Harry and I had been very active when the doors were closed. Harry's kisses always made me feel like I was flying. I savored each one. Then, I felt something new.

Hands were tugging at my belt. I sighed deeply as he drew back and began kissing along the now exposed skin just above my cock. I must have moaned, because he sat up and put a finger to his lips. I nodded. I watched as he slowly lowered his mouth and surrounded my cock. The feeling was like nothing I'd ever known. His tongue slipped down every inch as he began sucking, and my mind went blank. The only thing that mattered at that moment was the perfect pleasure I was feeling right then. Each second was like a new height, and then, before I knew it, I felt myself go.

I laid on the bed shaking from the release. Harry propped himself up beside me and wiped his mouth off. I couldn't think of a single thing to say to him, so I kissed him. I could still taste myself in his mouth and that only made me want him more. God, how I wanted to return the favor! I reached for his pants, but Harry grabbed my hand.

"Why not?" I asked.

Harry only shook his head. "There isn't time."

I looked at the clock and knew that he was right. My knees were still shaking when I stood. We had barely enough time to straighten up before we rushed downstairs.

My heart nearly stopped when I saw who was seated across the parlor. All three Dursleys sat there with very fake smiles. Cold rage spilled through me at my father. Petunia stood up and opened her arms to her nephew. I glanced over my shoulder at Harry who was pallid. His eyes were now as lifeless and dull as they had been when I first met him. He let her touch him, but pulled back instantly. She must have asked him something, because I caught the slightest movement of his lips as he dropped his head.

"HELLO, DRACO. IT IS VERY NICE TO SEE YOU AGAIN," Petunia told me very slowly. She, like many hearing people, obviously thought I was retarded.

All I could do was force a nod. I eyed the woman with thinly-veiled hatred.

I felt a hand on my shoulder and I whipped around to face my father. The Malfoy mask was in perfect form, but he let it slip just a tad to give me a devious grin. "We are still waiting for one more."

Harry and I sat on the couch beside my mother. None of the Dursleys made any move to call Harry over to them. Vernon shifted uneasily. "Have you been in any trouble, boy?" he asked.

Beside me, Harry only shook his head.

Why would my father do this? I wanted to scream at them. I wanted to throw them out of the house and never let them near Harry again. Minutes ticked by like centuries. I didn't follow any of the small talk the adults made. I simply sat there stealing glances at Harry. It was as if he had been turned to stone the instant they walked through the door.

Like a miracle, all heads snapped to attention, and I let my gaze follow. Like an Arabian Adonis, Sirius Black stood in the doorway smiling. "Sorry I'm late," he said with a wink toward Harry.

I wanted to stand up and dance! The Dursleys all turned several shades of red. I couldn't resist smirking at their discomfort. This was either brilliant or insane, I didn't know which.

Vernon shot out of his seat in indignation, but was soon seated again when he found himself on the receiving end of my father's glare. "I would like you to meet my cousin, Sirius Black," my father said. He was doing a much better job at hiding his smugness than I was.

Dursley sat his fat ass back down and murmured something I couldn't catch. It was obvious that he knew he had already lost this battle.

Finally, we took our seats in the formal dining room. Dinner was particularly quiet…even for me. No one said a word. My father and mother were seated at the ends of the table. Harry, Sirius and I sat on one side facing the Durselys on the other side. Harry looked only marginally better than he had earlier. I didn't doubt that he thought he would be punished for this. Under the table, I felt Harry's hand curl around mine. I squeezed Harry's hand to let him know that everything was going to be alright.

Being deaf is always harder in situations like this. I have a hard time following conversations. Sometimes, I feel like I am trying to watch a tennis match. And then, of course, there is always the problem that comes with not having a good view of everyone's lips. Whatever Sirius said, it certainly did piss Vernon off. The fat fuck looked like his face was going to explode. Petunia's complexion had gone pallid. God, I hoped my father was right.

After the meal was over, my father asked Sirius and Vernon to his study for cigars. Vernon looked like he was trying to protest, but my father wouldn't take no for an answer. Petunia and Dudley sat uncomfortably on the couch across from my mother, Harry and I. With everyone watching, I couldn't hold Harry's hand anymore. Minutes ticked by like hours. Every so often, Petunia would make some stupid attempt at small talk only to be silenced by the mere look in my mother's eyes. Sitting there was pure agony, but fortunately it didn't take too long.

Vernon walked into the parlor with an absolutely horrified look on his face. He didn't waste anytime collecting his wife and son. Suddenly, he turned on Harry. "YOU caused this, you little freak! After all we've done for you, this is the thanks we get! Well, I am glad to be rid of you! You're not going to be a drain on this family anymore. Black can do whatever the hell he wants with you!"

I turned to Harry, almost afraid of how he would take it. His eyes stared directly at his "uncle." "I hate you! I always have, and I always will. You've never done anything for me. All this time, I thought it was me, that I was fucked up! I was wrong! You made me think that! My whole life I did nothing but wonder what I had done to deserve this from you. No more! I'm done with it. I'm done with you."

**"**YOU LITTLE FREAK!" Vernon raged.

I opened my mouth to tell him off, but Sirius pushed in front of me. To this day, I don't know what he said, but there was a look of fear in Vernon's eyes that I can still see. He had the plump man so frightened that he didn't say another word. And just like that the Dursleys left our home and were gone from Harry's life.

Sirius turned to Harry and pulled him into his arms. Somehow I knew that he was telling Harry exactly what I wanted to say: "You are NOT a freak, Harry."

I felt a hand on my shoulder so I turned around. My father's eyes seemed tired. He really had put a lot into this. Whatever had gone on in that room hadn't been pleasant. "Harry is going to be spending the last few weeks of summer with Sirius."

All I could do was nod.

No matter how much I wanted Harry with me, I couldn't deny him the things he needed the most. I left Harry and Sirius there in the dining room to try fix the mess that the Dursleys had made. I knew it was best for Harry. It was the right thing to do, but the thought just left me feeling empty. In my heart, I knew I should be happy for him. The brat in me was still pouting. I didn't want Harry to leave, yet how could I deny him one of the few things that could really make things better for him? I watched Harry and Sirius together and knew what I had to do: I had to let go.

Feeling isolated, I excused myself to my room and sprawled out on my bed with a poetry book that my mother had bought me years ago. I tried my best to block out the black mood I was in, but it didn't work. My mind kept drifting back to Harry. I had never really loved someone like this, and maybe that was why it hurt so much.

The lights fluttered, and I looked up to see Harry smiling in the doorway. I forced a grin. "**Planning bonding with your godfather?"**

Harry nodded. "But I won't leave if you tell me not to?"

I snorted. **"That's stupid."**

Harry laughed. "I know that everything that's happened is because of you."

**"You still need to make up your own mind," **I told him shortly.

"I really don't know what I want. All I know is that I love you." Harry reached out and pushed the wayward strands from my forehead, and kissed me.

**"I love you, too, and that's why I want you to go," **I told him shakily.

Harry nodded. He cracked a mischievous grin. "Is it too late to take you up on that swim?"

I shook my head with a laugh. "**Never too late."**

I loaned Harry a pair of swim trunks and we waited for all of the lights to go out in the house before sneaking down to the pool. The pool was shimmering from the light of the stars when we came down, and I was half tempted to leave it that way. Finally, I decided that it wouldn't be a good idea to go swimming in the dark when I couldn't read Harry's lips. Harry was still wearing his longsleeved shirt. Stripping off my own shirt, I dove in without a care and waited for him to do the same. His reluctance seemed to wane a bit and he peeled off his shirt. I splashed at the water waiting for him to get in, but he didn't

"**Well?"**

Harry shifted uncomfortably, but then slid into the shallow end. He made his way slowly to where the drop was and stared out to where I was treading water. I met him in the middle, and smiled when he shivered. My hands slid around his waist. The skin there was raised and oddly textured, but that didn't deter me at all. I pulled him to me enjoying the feel of him. Our kiss was deep and long. I couldn't get enough of him. At that moment, I was tempted break down and beg him to stay. I pulled back. **"Let's get you swimming."**

At first, Harry was not comfortable in the water and sank every time he tried to float. "I'm not good at this," he said with frustration creeping in.

"**Not so perfect after all," **I murmured.

Harry frowned. "I never claimed to be."

This wasn't a conversation that I intended to have right then…or ever if I had my way. "**Just lean back, and relax. Don't try to float, just lay there."**

Harry did as I told him to and this time managed to stay atop of the water for a few seconds before sinking under. Sputtering, he surfaced with a look that said he didn't believe in my technique. It took nearly another hour for him to get the hang of floating. The smile on his face was triumphant. He stood up in the water and kissed me. **Thank you.**

I shrugged. "**Floating isn't too hard."**

"Not just that. You saved my life. I don't know what I would have done without you," he said. His eyes were serious, and he reached out and touched my cheek. **I love you.**

I think my heart stopped right then. **I love you too.**

"Draco, I want to believe that we can really be happy, but I'm not sure I know what that really means. I've never been in love before. I'm afraid I'm going to fuck it up, and I don't want to. It scares me that you could hurt me, but it scares me worse that I might hurt you," he said.

"**I'm not afraid." **It was a lie. It was out and out bullshit, but it seemed like the right thing to say at the time. I was scared shitless, and mostly for the same reasons Harry was. What if I screwed this up for both of us?

Harry bit his lip. "I wish I was like you."

**"I like you the way you are."**

He shook his head. "I don't."

**"I know, and that is why you need to go with Sirius**."

**"**Even though he's an asshole?" Harry laughed.

My cheeks turned red. "He told you about that?"

Harry nodded.

**"Promise me that you'll email me...you've got no excuse this time."**

"I will," he promised.

That night, Harry and I slept together in my bed. Actually, he slept. I lay in bed, and stared at him. As childish as it may seem, I kept a night light on in my room. I've always been a little nervous--not afraid, NERVOUS--about the dark. Having two senses stripped away made me uneasy. That night, the light allowed me to really get a good look at Harry as he slept. I'd never seen him look so peaceful. When we'd shared a room at school, he'd always slept in a tight ball under the covers, and I didn't get to see much of him. I don't think I ever could get tired of watching Harry sleep. I liked the relaxed expression that covered his features, and the even rise and fall of his chest. Most of all, I think I just liked being so close to him. The thought that he would be gone the next day cast a darkness over my mood, but I did my best to shrug it off. It was only three weeks, and Sirius could probably do things to help Harry that I couldn't. And then there was school. Harry and I could steal away to the Room of Requirement as much we wanted. The end of Harry's stay with us wasn't the end of this relationship, and I knew it. Somehow, this was just the beginning.


	13. Chapter 13

AN Sorry for the delay in posts. I will warn you that this is a very Draco-centric chap. Don't expect too much of Harry. I also want to let you know that I will eventually get back to posting on TSS. Later on my Lime-ish parts will be exclusively there. Thanks for reading! And huge thanks to SilentQuill and to NiamhAingeal for being my wonderful and wise betas.

Chapter 13

For as much as I feared separation from Harry, I do have to say that it was one of the better things that could have happened to us that summer. Oh, that isn't to say that I didn't spend my fair share of time moping. It took two days for Blaise to pull me out of my funk long enough to go shopping. Roaming the high-end shops in Manhattan always lightened my mood.

Blaise and I shared a passion for everything new and trendy. Needless to say, Blaise was a much better shopping partner than Harry. We spent a good part of the day in Neiman Marcus. It was one of my favorite stores in the city, and I headed for the dressing room with a stack of shirts so high I could barely see over them. When I had the first one on, I couldn't decide if I liked it or not. I assumed that Blaise wasn't far behind me, but when I came out, he was nowhere to be found. I rolled my eyes and tossed the shirt back on the rack. Searching the store, I became more and more irritated, and then I saw something that caught my attention.

Standing beside a rack of ties, I noticed a tall, blonde figure that I couldn't help but recognize. What I didn't recognize was the petite, dark-haired woman standing in front of him. I angled myself behind a display and continued to watch my father and this mystery woman. She was very beautiful, with her brown curls pulled back and her golden complexion. This exotic creature was the complete polar opposite of my mother. I couldn't look away as she reached up and wrapped a tie around my father's neck. My father's ice mask was gone. His eyes were warm, and he was smiling and laughing. He caressed the back of her hand before placing a kiss on her knuckles. They looked so in love. My blood ran cold. I turned away from the pair and continued my search for Blaise. The truths of my parents marriage were too much for right now. I wasn't ready to face the fact that my father didn't love my mother the way he loved that woman.

As it turned out, Blaise had found a "friend" by the socks. **Find anything you liked?**

I shook my head.

**What's wrong? **Blaise asked with a worried expression.

**Nothing, **I replied shortly. **Can we go now?**

Blaise took the guy's number, and we made our way out of the store. For the rest of the day, I forced myself to forget about what had happened there. After all, it wasn't like I hadn't known that my father had a mistress.

When I was eight, I remember waiting in my father's office for him. My mother had gone to some charity thing or another, and I had begged to spend the day with my "daddy." Back then, I actually did believe my father was superman. That was why I felt my world shatter when I caught a glimpse of him kissing another woman. Though I didn't know much about love or lust, I knew that kind of kiss was something he should only do with my mother. I think he knew that I had seen them that day, because he took me to the museum and then to an ice cream parlor. Perhaps that was his apology, but I think of it as the first time I was bribed into betraying my mother's trust.

I wondered how long he had kept this one. In the end, it didn't matter. She was another nameless whore who kept my father entertained in the city. I could ignore her just like I did all the others. My father knew how to keep his secrets. So long as I didn't catch the tears in his web of lies, I was willing to pretend I didn't know. That day was no different. By the time Blaise and I were in the car, I had already put the scene behind me.

We ended up at our café, and it occurred to me that we hadn't been there for almost a year. Before Hogwarts and Harry, Blaise and I had come nearly every time he was home from school and at least once a week over the summer. Since we were nine, we had been inseparable, but things had been changing.

**Do you think things will ever be normal again? **I asked thoughtfully

**What do you mean? Things are still normal. We just grew up is all...and you got a boyfriend, **he added.

I frowned. **Blaise, I'm sorry.**

He smiled. **Don't be. It had to happen sooner or later. So fill me in on Harry. You've been skimping on the details.**

What were the details with Harry? I wasn't really sure what to say without going into things that I knew I shouldn't. **Harry's great. He's really...very...**

Blaise rolled his eyes. **How far have you two gotten?**

**I am not going to tell you that!**

**Why not? **he asked.

**We fooled around a bit, **I admitted.

**So it's official now? **

I sighed. **I think so. I love him. Even when he drives me crazy, I just can't seem to get away from him. He's just so different from everyone I've ever met. **

**Does he have a big cock? **

I nearly spit coke across the table.

**Does he? **Blaise demanded. I wasn't really surprised that he was asking me this. Even before we were open with each other about being gay, Blaise's mind seemed to be stuck in the gutter.

I turned my attention to the tablecloth. This question was harder to answer than it should have been. **I don't know, **I replied after a long moment. **We're taking it slow.**

Blaise nodded.

That night, we sprawled out on the floor in Blaise's basement-cum-rec-room looking through magazines. The two of us had fallen into a sort of easy pattern that we'd been in for years. Maybe our friendship hadn't suffered as much as I thought. I felt a hand on my shoulder.

Blaise slid me a porno, and grinned. **Well, if you and Harry haven't gotten too far, there's no reason not to dream a little. **

I laughed, and thumbed through the first few pages. **That HAS to be fake!**

**Eleven inches of the real deal. **

**As if you'll ever have him!**

He laughed and held his chin high. **I want someone hotter.**

**So have you had sex yet? **I asked mischievously.

I have never seen a smile so smug. He bit his bottom lip dreamily. **Yes.**

I threw the magazine at him. **Why didn't you tell me?**

He shrugged. **You were busy with Harry and whatever "issues" you two had going on. **

**But this is BIG! Who was it?**

**Dean Thomas. Right after Harry's party. We ended up back at his place, and his parents were gone...you know... He started kissing me, and clothes started coming off. **Blaise shrugged.

**What's it like? **

Blaise looked serious. **It was strange. When he started sliding it in, it kind of hurt. Then we started moving together, and it got good. He was actually inside of me! It didn't last too long, but I like it.**

**Do you think you want to be on top?**

**Maybe. I don't know. **

**So what is going on with you and Dean anyway?**

His face fell. **Absolutely nothing. It's not like it matters.**

I circled my heart with my fist. **I'm sorry. I didn't know. I'm a dick for not asking. I got kind of caught up with Harry. **

He nodded. **It's ok.**

Over the next few weeks I did my best to be a better friend to Blaise. I didn't wait by the computer for Harry to email me. I went out. I did all of the things that I did before Harry. I even spent time with Adam and some of my other deaf friends in the city. For the first time in months, my life was more about me again. It felt very refreshing

That didn't mean that Harry had disappeared from my mind. We emailed and instant messaged each other daily. I could tell that Sirius was good for him. Even in his emails, I could tell that Harry was more at ease with himself than he had been before. He mentioned that he was talking to someone, but he didn't go into details. I merely assumed that he meant that he was seeing a psychiatrist. He did tell me that he had a surprise for me, but I brushed it off. We made plans to meet early in the day before going to the train station, and I was once again counting the hours until I could see Harry again.

When that day finally came, my father insisted on coming along. He told me that he and Sirius had something to discuss. Even he couldn't dampen my spirits. I had butterflies in my stomach as I looked for Harry at the small coffee shop we had agreed upon. I finally spotted him by the window with Sirius. The pair were laughing about something. Harry looked like an entirely different person almost. He looked as though he didn't have a care in the world.

"**Draco!**" His smile was dazzling. Harry looked great. His face was fuller and his hair was shorter. He definitely had been eating more.

I wanted nothing more than to run to him and kiss him on the lips right then and there, but I merely smiled. "Hello."

My father offered his hand to Harry. As usual, he completely ignored me. I was more than glad to see him leave with Sirius. We happily slid into a corner booth.

Harry leaned in and kissed my cheek. **I missed you.**

I felt my face turn red, and I made a frantic check for my father.** "Harry, what if someone saw that?"  
**

**They'd know I love you, **he told me with a shrug. Only then did something occur to me.

**You've been working on your signs! **

Harry nodded. **I had summer school with Tonks almost every day since I left you.**

My throat tightened. **So this is the surprise. I wondered what it was.**

**I wanted to be able to really speak your language. You're so beautiful when you sign. I love to watch you, and I know that you don't like speaking as much. Am I doing alright? **he asked. His movements were crisp and deliberate. Fluidity comes with time, but he was doing wonderfully. It was hard to believe that he had cared enough to work on it everyday.

**You're doing great. You look wonderful, **I added.

It was Harry's turn to blush. **I'm glad you think so.**

**Don't you? **

Harry lifted his hands, but didn't say anything for a moment. In the end, he just shrugged. **I've been talking to this woman that Sirius hired. She has me on a meal plan, and I have to keep a journal on what I eat and how I feel about it. It's...**fucked up," he finally added aloud.

I couldn't help but crack a smile. **Fucked up, **I showed him. **Tonks has been skipping the good stuff.**

He nodded. **I still don't enjoy eating. **

I swallowed hard and reached out for his hand. **I'm here for you.**

That smile was back. **I'm lucky to have you.**

**Yes, you are, **I told him proudly.

Harry's eyes drifted to the doorway of the café, and I followed his gaze. Granger and the Weasel were standing in there with the Weaselette. Though I still hated Ron, I was determined to put up with him for Harry's sake. Granger wrapped Harry in a hug so tight she nearly took him off his feet. When she finally unclamped herself, I offered her my hand, but she ignored it and hugged me as well. I could see the gratitude in her eyes.

Ron gave a small wave in my direction, and went right on talking to Harry. His sister was staring at Harry as if he were carved from marble.

We all sat back down in the booth, and I immediately missed our privacy. Harry and Hermione did sign for me the whole time, but I wasn't really interested. Times like this made me wonder if I would ever really be a part of Harry's circle. Hermione wasn't bad. I had to admit that I was starting to like the pushy girl. I didn't think I'd ever learn to like the Weasel.

**"So are you sitting with us?" **Hermione asked

I shrugged. **"I think I'll sit with Blaise and the other Slytherins."**

Weasel rolled his eyes. "Figures."

Hermione shot him a look. "**We should get going. See you on the train."**

The Weaselys followed Hermione out like ducks, and I made a face at them as they passed.

Harry squeezed my hand. **Thanks for not saying anything.**

**You'll make it up to me, **I told him easily. I glanced at my watch. **Those two had better get back soon.**

**I wonder what they're talking about.**

A sinking feeling hit my stomach. I knew that my father's help didn't come for free. Whatever bargain Sirius had struck, I didn't doubt that my father would hold him to it. I shrugged. I didn't want Harry to know everything that went on behind closed doors. Somehow, I thought that it was my job to protect him.

Sirius and my father did make it back in time. We were on the platform along with our classmates. I couldn't help but notice the marked difference between the men. Where my father gave me a handshake and a quick goodbye, Sirius hugged Harry tightly and kissed his forehead. He seemed genuinely sad to see him go. An old sting welled up inside of me. Did my father ever miss me?

The train boarded on time, and I ended up sitting with Blaise as I had the year before. This year, though, we both were unusually quiet. I couldn't help but notice the looks Blaise kept sending over toward Dean Thomas in the Gryffindor section. He'd told me a while ago that Dean wasn't interested in anything more than the occasional fuck, but I knew that Blaise wanted more. Despite his big mouth, Blaise had a soft heart. I felt lucky to have Harry right then.

Hogwarts was still the same as when we had left. The Slytherin section of the school was packed with students hauling their bags into their rooms. Blaise and I still roomed together, but as sophomores we had been moved up a hall. The senior and junior dorms were on the floor above, and were decidedly nicer than those down where we were. Hogwarts had a system for who got what rooms. The students who maintained high grades got first pick. Blaise and I had both stayed on the honor roll, and were among the first to settle in. We split the room evenly. Between the two of us, there was a silent agreement that there was never a need to ask to borrow something so long as it was returned. We each left a big portion of our wardrobes at home. If we hadn't, I doubted that we would have fit in the room.

I flopped down on my bed and took a deep breath. So, I thought, I'm up for round two. I was actually looking forward to this year. Somehow, I knew that Harry and I were going to be spending more than our fair share in the Room of Requirement. I couldn't help but smile. Harry and I were going to make the most of this year. I was sure of it.

My sophomore year was bound to be different. From the minute I stepped off the train, I had a sense that this year was going to be something to remember. I had no idea how true that sentiment would prove. With all of my concern for Harry, I had become somewhat oblivious to things--or rather people--I should notice. In fact, I didn't notice anything odd at Hogwarts that year until the welcoming feast.

As usual, I took my seat with my fellow Slytherins, and I saw Harry over surrounded by adoring Gryffindors. Beside me, Blaise's gaze was also across the room. **Where's Tonks? **he asked looking away.

I shrugged. **She's always late. I'm sure she'll get here soon. **

**Doesn't that make you mad? **

I laughed. **Like I actually care what Dumbledore has to say! **

**You might this year, **Blaise told me with an impish grin.

**Why? **I asked cautiously.

**We have a new lit professor and he's gorgeous. **

I rolled my eyes. **Is that all you think about? **

**Yes, but there's more, **he said grinning widely. He reached in his bag and pulled out a book. **He's a poet, and not just any poet either. The board nearly croaked when his application came up for review. Even Dumbledore had a rough time getting him in.**

I picked up the book tentatively, and read the title: _My Love's Hands and Other Poems _by R.J. Lupin. Flipping the volume over, I skimmed the blurb on the back:

Pulitzer prize winner, Dr. R. J. Lupin, PhD. follows up his critically acclaimed _Echoes and Dreams_ with yet another hypnotic voyage into the human soul. As an active member of bother the Gay Community and Deaf Culture, Lupin's insightful verses are as culturally relevant as they are beautiful.

Now, this was interesting! **Deaf and gay? **I repeated in shock.

Blaise nodded. **Don't forget fucking beautiful.**

I scanned the room for a new face, but no one stood out. **How do you know?**

**My mother made me go to a fundraiser with her a few months ago, and he was one of the guest speakers. Someone let it slip to me that he was on the list of potential candidates for Howard's job, and just now I heard from Pansy that her father is in an uproar about him getting it, **Blaise explained dramatically. **Now, aren't you curious?**

I raised a brow to that. How could I not be curious? Though I was a bit out of touch with most Deaf Culture, it seemed odd to me that I had never heard of him before. I made a mental note to drop Adam an email and see if he knew anything. One thing was certain: Tonks absence was now getting on my nerves. **So what's he like, other than deaf, gay, talented, and gorgeous? **I asked.

Blaise laughed. **I think you hit most of them. You can add mysterious to the list though. He's rather tight-lipped about his muse.**

Before long, I saw Tonks slip in from the back. The nose stud and punkish pink hair had returned. I smiled. I had genuinely missed her over the summer. Her humor made the days in class go faster, and I was very grateful for her helping Harry learn to sign.

**Hello, brat, **she signed. **Did you have fun corrupting Harry this summer? **

**Of course. I still have to teach him all the signs you skipped, **I teased.

She laughed. **Don't even get a thank you. I see how you are. So have you gotten wind of any good gossip? **she asked with a sly glimmer in her eyes.

**So you know him?**

Tonks nodded. **He taught me to sign.**

Something snapped in my brain. So this was the person who knew both Tonks and Snape! I didn't have time to muse on that piece of information very long as Dumbledore approached the podium. Tonks took her spot beside him and began signing.

**Welcome to another year at Hogwarts. I hope that you all have had a wonderful vacation. This year you will notice a few changes to your usual schedule. Professor Howard has made a last minute decision to step down from his position as literature teacher this year, and I am sure he will be missed. **(I can only imagine the entire Great Hall snorting at that comment!) **Luckily, Dr. Remus Lupin has accepted the duty of taking over for Professor Howard indefinitely. Dr. Lupin was unable to attend tonight, but I know you will all extend a warm welcome to him tomorrow in class. Now, Mr. Filch has asked….**

My attention drifted elsewhere. I was more than a little disappointed that was all he had said about this mystery professor. I couldn't believe that after all the controversy this man had caused, Dumbledore could merely pass over him. I'll admit, Dr. R.J. Lupin had my interest peaked. Though I hadn't met him, I already had a kernel of respect for him. Here was a man who was Deaf and gay, and proud of both. Here was a man who I secretly hoped I could one day be. I couldn't wait to find out if Lupin lived up to my expectations. Yes, I decided, this year was going to be different.


	14. Chapter 14

AN As always, much love to my betas, SilentQuill and NiamhAingeal, and to everyone who reviewed. Sorry for the interruption, but I am going to be working on You Belong To Me for the next week or two, so there probably won't be any updates for a while. Thanks for reading.

Chapter 14

As it turned out, I didn't have to wait long for a reply from Adam about Professor Lupin. He emailed me back almost immediately:

_I know who he is. Lupin lectured here one time a while ago. He's really liberal, and I don't like any of his poetry. It doesn't sell very good so no worries about not knowing who he is. I think he taught at Gallaudet for a while or something like that. You know he's gay right? He's a total flamer! They won't even put his books in the school library. _

I rolled my eyes at the part about Lupin being gay, but other than that nothing really surprised me. I typed Lupin's name into a search engine, and a few pages came up...mostly advertisements to buy his books online. One site though was just what I had wanted.

_Remus Jean Lupin, was born March 10,1960 to famed ballerina Anna Benoit-Lupin and industrialist Jean Lupin. Lupin is best noted for his Pulitzer Prize winning volume of poetry entitled My Lover's Hands and Other Poems. A graduate of the prestigious Hogwarts Academy, Lupin first headed to Boston College where he began to study literature. In 1982, he lost most of his hearing to meningitis. Lupin took some time away from academia before finishing out his degree at Boston College. Over the next decade, Lupin would continue his studies at Harvard, Carnegie Mellon, and Gallaudet University. Eventually, he would receive his doctorate at Carnegie Mellon. His poems were published sporadically throughout the 1980's, and his first volume, Circles of Change, was published in 1991. In 1995, he published My Lovers Hands and Other Poems. Though a favorite among critics and intellectuals, Lupin's works remain relatively unknown outside of those circles. At thirty-eight, Lupin now enjoys a career as a college professor at his alma matter, Boston College, teaching literature. Lupin is also noted for his charitable work and his activism. He is known for being an outspoken member of GLADD._

Sleepily, I leaned back in my chair and stared at the screen. So Lupin was a Hogwarts alumnus. I wondered what house Lupin had been in. Probably Slytherin. Weren't we Slytherins known for our ambition? I had wanted to borrow Blaise's copy of his work, but I couldn't pry the volume from his hands with a crowbar. I went to bed that night still wondering about Professor Lupin.

I had promised to meet Harry in the early morning before breakfast in "our" room. A harsh poke to my ribs told me that Blaise was in no mood to play alarm clock that day. I crept through the halls trying to be as quiet as possible. For all I knew, I could have sounded like an elephant coming down the stairs. I had nearly made it down the hall without incident when I saw something odd.

Professor Snape was standing in the hall near his quarters arguing--in sign--with a man I could only assume was Professor Lupin. **You haven't changed one bit since you were a boy. I just knew you'd be all excited to meet him! Go ahead and fawn all over him like you did James and Sirius. I'm telling you the boy is no better than they were in those days. Hanging around with that Weasley boy!**

From where I stood, I couldn't get a good look to see what Professor Lupin was saying, but his swift, harsh movements left no doubt in my mind that they were fighting. He turned away from Snape, and I managed to duck behind the corner just in time...or so I thought. Mere seconds later I was staring at the man I had been so interested in.

Professor Lupin was a petite man. He didn't stand much taller than me, and he was waifishly thin. He appeared frail, yet I could instantly see what Blaise found so alluring about him. His features were delicate, and I guess you could call him pretty. Thick, curling auburn toned locks were already showing grey at the temples. Amber eyes stared at me with mild curiosity. "What are you doing up already?"

**I wanted to go for a run before classes, sir, **I answered in sign.

Professor Lupin smiled. **You must be Draco. Professor Snape told me about you.**

**He did?**

**He says your very bright, **he told me. Professor Lupin eyed me up and down, and then I saw the tiniest twitch of amusement at the corners of his mouth. **May I make a suggestion?**

I nodded.

**Next time you are going to lie, at least consider your story. I very highly doubt that you'd want to go running in your uniform. Back to the dorm, **he chided gently.

Though I did as I was told, I was silently cursing to myself. I couldn't believe that I was stupid enough to get caught like that. And of all people, to be caught by Professor Lupin! At least, I thought blandly, I got to meet him. I waited about ten minutes before poking my head out of the dorm again and made my way back down the hall. Of course, I was late and Harry was already sitting on the couch when I got there.

**Sleep in?**

I shook my head. **I had a run in with Professor Lupin. **

Harry laughed. **Come here. **I cocked a brow. Harry rarely gave orders. Maybe it was curiosity that lead me to follow. I sat down on the couch beside him. **"I've been waiting for this."**

**For what?**

Harry answered me with a kiss. He was more passionate than ever before. His tongue and his hands left no doubt that he really did want me. I moaned when his slender fingers wrapped around me. There weren't any words or signs needed now. I leaned back and let him do as he wished. His hands, his mouth. It didn't matter which. I was flying once more. When he finished, I was quaking with release. The blood was rushing though my veins like a tidal wave.

"My god, your beautiful!" he said to me reaching out and touching my cheek.

I kissed him. "Let me," I demanded. My hands were fumbling with his zipper.

Harry stood up abruptly. **"Not yet. ** I still can't...**"**

**"It's ok," **I lied. I wasn't about to start this year off with a fight. I flopped back on the couch and cried out in pain when something jabbed me in the back.

Rubbing the spot, I glared at the old couch. Something had poked out from between the springs and torn the upholstery. Harry reached over and pulled out a box. He handed it to me. **You open it.**

The box was nothing more than an old wooden cigar box. I lifted the lid, and pulled out a letter.

_Congratulations! You have discovered the secret to all of our exploits. The Marauder's Map. We hope that you put this to good use, as we have._

_Padfoot, Prongs, Moony and Wormtail._

Beneath the letter was what appeared to be a blueprint. Harry unfolded the paper. It was the outlay of the entire school! Even at first glance, I noticed several passages that I never knew existed. There was even one leading from Slytherin house to Gryffindor.

**"So this is what they left us," **I said with a smile.

Suddenly, Harry's head snapped up. **"There's the ten minute warning bell. We can come back to this tonight."**

I just barely made it to first period, and it was a good thing I wasn't late. Professor Snape looked more annoyed than he usually did. I wondered if his argument with Professor Lupin had him in a bad mood. Even Tonks looked like she was on egg shells as Snape launched right in to lecture. There was no welcome back or review; just class as usual.

I wondered if taking advanced placement chemistry had been such a good idea after all. Because this year's class was more of a lab based course than lecture based, Tonks would be with me for it. Both Harry and Blaise had opted out of AP chem and taken biology with Professor Sprout instead. Blaise, I knew, had chosen the class only after he'd seen what Dean Thomas was taking. Harry only wanted to avoid Snape, a nearly impossible feat. With all of the requirements at Hogwarts, he would still need two more science credits. To get those you either need to take something Snape taught, or have already taken a class taught by him as prerequisite. I was still sulking that he hadn't just taken it with me and gotten it over with.

The first half of my day was uneventful. I took lunch with my housemates and almost swallowed my food whole. Blaise laughed at me. **This is what happens when you are too busy fooling around with your boyfriend to eat.**

**It was an accident! **I protested between bites.

Blaise smirked. **I take it you and Harry had a breakfast with more protein?  
**

Unable to stop it, I felt the color rising to my face. I hated it when he was right. I did my best to ignore him as I peered over at the Gryffindor table. Harry was making faces at his plate again, but he was actually eating. It suddenly occurred to me that Harry really shouldn't be skipping meals, and I felt a wave of guilt wash away my embarrassment.

**Everything ok? **Blaise asked.

I nodded. Deep down, I wondered if all relationships were this complicated?

After lunch, it was on to American Lit class. Lupin's class was a good distraction. It was the one thing I had really been looking forward to aside from Harry. Gryffindors and Slytherins filled the classroom, and right away we knew things would be different with Lupin. All of the desks were formed into a semicircle around the room with his desk positioned where he could see everyone. Near the back of the class sat a black man that I didn't recognize, and I instantly assumed he was an interpreter.

As soon as everyone was seated, Professor Lupin stood. **"Welcome to a American Literature. I am Professor Lupin, and I have taken over for Professor Howard this year. As you can probably guess, this class will be slightly different from what you are used to and I am slightly different from your other professors. I am deaf. I do read lips well, but for clarity purposes, Mr. Shacklebolt will be in the room for this class as an interpreter."**

Lupin stopped and acknowledged the Weasel's hand in the air. In typical moron fashion, Ron turned to ask Shacklebolt his question instead of Professor Lupin. Tonks nearly lost it when she put his question to sign for me: **Does this mean we all have to learn sign to talk to him? **I couldn't stop myself from rolling my eyes.

Professor Lupin took Weasel's stupidity in stride. **"I would appreciate it if you would speak to me, Mr..." **He waited for Ron to fill in his name. "**No, Mr. Weasley, you don't have to know sign." **He answered with only the tiniest twitch of his lips. Professor Lupin didn't wait for any more stupid questions.** "You do, however, have to know Hawthorne, Whitman, Hemingway, Fitzgerald, Chopin, and Angelou. This class will cover three main areas: the history of the piece, time period, and author; the work itself; and analysis of the work."**

Professor Lupin handed out an outline of the course and a syllabus. He glanced at his watch and the window outside. **"Well, class, we have forty-five minutes left in the hour, and the sun is shining. Let's take this out to the courtyard."**

The weather that day was beautiful. We all followed Lupin out and sat on the grass. I glanced over at Blaise who had made sure to push his way to the front of the group. He had seemingly forgotten Dean Thomas who was in the back. All of his attention was focused on Professor Lupin. Harry taken a seat near me, and I felt him slip a note into my pocket. It took all of my will not to pull it out and read it.

Lupin began speaking and signing without warning:

**"Do not go gentle into that good night,  
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;  
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.**

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,  
Because their words had forked no lightning they  
Do not go gentle into that good night. 

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright  
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,  
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,  
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,  
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight  
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,  
Rage, rage against the dying of the light. 

**And you, my father, there on the sad height,  
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.  
Do not go gentle into that good night.  
Rage, rage against the dying of the light."**

**"Does anyone know the name of that poem?" **Lupin asked. **"A very easy question." **I glanced over at my classmates hoping that I wasn't the only one who didn't know. Luckily, not a single hand was raised. Lupin pointed to Neville. **"Can you tell me, Mr... Longbottom? I'll give you a hint: Do not go..."**

Neville looked frozen in place. His eyes were wide. God knows, he was never one to revel in the limelight. Finally he answered and everyone around him simultaneously winced. "DO NOT GO GENTLE INTO THAT GOOD NIGHT?"

Professor Lupin laughed. "**You are right, Mr. Longbottom. However, there is no need to shout. Believe me, all it does is annoy your classmates. Still, very good. Do you know who wrote it?"**

Neville shook his head.

**"It was written by Dylan Thomas," **Lupin supplied. **"What do you think it's about?"  
**

I rolled my eyes. Longbottom NEVER answered questions correctly in class, and I doubted he would have gotten the title without Lupin's help. You can imagine my shock when Tonks put his answer to sign.

**I think it's about not wanting his father to die.**

Lupin smiled widely. "**Very good. Thomas did write that poem about the death of his father. That poem means much more when you've experienced death. I read it when for the first time in an English class, much like this one, but it didn't mean anything until my own father passed away. My assignment to you is simple: bring something that means something to you. It can be anything you like: a photo, a poem, a quote from a novel. Bring something that inspires you…class appropriate, of course. Class dismissed."**

Harry and I were on our way back to the school when Harry stopped suddenly. I spied Professor Lupin coming up behind us. "Might I have a word with you, Harry?"

**"I'll meet you later?" **Harry asked.

I nodded, and left the two behind. It occurred to me that Harry was probably the one Lupin had been arguing with Snape about. I wondered why Snape had such a bad attitude about Harry, and why Lupin wanted to speak to him. I wouldn't get any answers until I saw Harry again.

That night, Harry was late coming to the room. He looked tired, but he smiled at me. **Sorry I'm late, **he told me.

I shrugged. **What did Lupin have to say?**

**He's just like everyone else in this place. He knew my parents. I don't want to talk about it, **he told me.

**Fine. Let's look at the map, **I suggested. For some reason, I was determined to keep things as smooth as possible between us. I wouldn't push for him to tell me things, because I was afraid that the bottom would fall out.

We spent nearly an hour pouring over the details. In my opinion, Salazar Slytherin may have been a nutcase, but he was also a genius. The school's blueprints were amazing. There were a dozen hidden hallways and four more rooms tucked away neatly. Of course, a few of the passages were no longer secret among the student body. Blaise had shown me one leading out to Hogsmeade the first week of my freshman year, but I knew for a fact that he didn't know about the passage from our house to Gryffindor. Sneaking around to see Harry just got easier. I smiled as I imagined creeping into Harry's room.

On a whim, I reached out and touched his cheek. He backed away. **"Why won't you let me touch you?" **Harry looked away. "Please tell me."

**You're beautiful. **His eyes were locked on me, but they didn't show a thing.

**"What does that have to do with anything?"**

**"It's hard to explain. I don't know how to make you understand." **His hands trembled, and I grabbed them. "You're clean. You're like everything else that I don't deserve."

"I love you, and you ARE beautiful to me. You are clean," I told him. "I want you. I love you. Doesn't that mean anything to you?"

"It does…more than anything. I just can't believe that I deserve you. Talking to a shrink only made me realize it more. Say you're right about everything…say I'm not as nasty looking as I think, and that I am not a freak…doesn't that make it worse? Doesn't that just mean that I am fucked up in the head? Why are you still here? Don't you get tired of me…of all this?" he asked.

I sank down on the couch. "**I do get tired of this, but not tired of you. I'm here because I want to be. If you are fucked up in the head, I don't think anyone can blame you. I sure as hell don't! You want to know what you deserve, Harry? What you honestly deserve? You deserve to be happy! You deserve to be loved. I love you, and if I make you happy; I am exactly what you deserve."**

**"Sometimes, you are the only thing that makes me happy," **he told me sitting beside me.

**"Let me make you as happy as you've made me," **I demanded

Harry bit his lip. "I don't understand you at all."

I laughed. "That's ironic coming from you." I kissed his neck. "Please."

He leaned back and let me unbutton his shirt. My hands ghosted along his bare skin. I let my lips and my tongue prove to him that the scars didn't change my mind about his beauty. His breaths came in ragged motions beneath my touch. God, I wanted to make him mine right there. I went slow. First came his belt. Then, I undid his pants. "God, I want you!" I said breathlessly.

I stared into his green eyes as I slid my hand underneath the fabric. He seemed to know what I was asking and nodded. It started with my hand. For the first time, I was going to return the wonders that Harry had given me. Secretly, I prayed that I could make him half as happy as he made me. I watched him shudder, and took the plunge.

It wasn't at all what I had expected. I had always thought that sucking cock would only be fun if you were on the receiving end….God, was I wrong!

…………………Edited scene…sorry readers………………………..

Harry laid back on the couch trying to catch his breath. He caught me behind my neck and pulled my mouth to his. That evening, he held me on the couch. We were content to just be together. All of the questions could wait. This was all that mattered.


	15. Chapter 15

Revamped and reposted thanks to SilentQuill

Chapter 15

My first assignment for Lupin's class proved harder for me than I thought it would be. To be honest, I wasn't really sure what inspired me back then. Well, I suppose that isn't entirely true. Harry inspired me, but I couldn't use him as my homework. In the end, I settled for a photo of Kyoto, Japan that I found in a travel guide. It was of a blossoming cherry tree over an ornamental bridge. Someday, I wanted to go there. I put the picture in my bag.

Blaise tapped my shoulder. **Is that what you're taking to Lupin's class?**

I nodded. **I guess I don't need to ask what you're taking. **

Blaise, of course, was bringing his copy of Lupin's own poetry. He spent most of his free time flopped on his bed reading poetry, and I wasn't the only one who noticed. He'd skipped out on a trip to Hogsmeade to drink with the others last night to spend more time with his precious books. I wondered how long it would take the others to realize that he was nursing a giant crush on our lit teacher. Blaise clutched the volume to his chest. **Why would I bring anything else? The man inspires me, and that was the assignment.**

**You know he's old enough to be your dad, **I told him as we walked to the Great Hall.

Blaise smiled wolfishly. **Yes, older men are so much sexier. He probably could show me all sorts of things in bed. And he's so mature and dignified. Lupin told The Advocate that he doesn't believe in one nightstands or sleeping with someone you don't love. He's such a romantic. **

**You're a stalker! **I laughed.

**I'm in love, **he countered dreamily.

I sighed and gave up the fight. It didn't take a genius to realize that Blaise was searching for something besides Dean to think of. This, too, would pass, I hoped.

Half way down the hall, I saw a group of students whiz by me. A large circle blocked most of the hall, and Harry was near the center.

Right off, I knew something was wrong that morning with Harry. I spotted him across the hall, but he didn't even notice me. I followed his smoldering gaze to Justin Finch-Fletchley who was sprawled out on the floor with a bloody nose. Racing to his side, I stepped between them only to be tossed aside. I still had no idea what was going on. Harry didn't seem the least bit concerned with cluing me in either. His lips moved too quickly, and I couldn't get a good enough look.

"Stop!" I cried as I tried my best to hold him away from Justin. "What's going on?"

For an instant, Harry stopped and looked at me, but then pulled away from my grasp again. "You fucking bastard! Don't you dare bring him into this!" Harry raged.

I was pushed back into the group, and all I could do was watch Harry grab Justin by the throat. "Please, stop!"

Suddenly, the group parted. Professor Lupin and Professor Snape brought a speedy halt to the fight. My heart sank in my chest because I realized that Harry could be expelled for this and that Snape would try his best to see ithappen. When I tried to push my way to Harry, Lupin stopped me.

**I know you're worried, but you can talk to Harry later. **Lupin told me.

**But I…**

**I know how you feel, Draco. Right now, we have to deal with this. Go eat breakfast, **he commanded.

Snape sent the rest of the students away, and I glanced over my shoulder at Harry as he was taken down the hall. More than anything, I just wanted to know what had happened.

The Great Hall was obviously atwitter with excitement over the fight when I got there. I immediately sought out Hermione for details. Hermione was looking just as worried as I was when I found her.

**"What happened?" **I asked frantically.

Hermione sighed. **"Justin called Professor Lupin a faggot and Harry overheard it. He confronted him about it, and Justin continued on to say that Lupin shouldn't be here because he can't do his job without help anyway. From there, things only got worse."**

My head ached. **"So what did Justin say about me?"**

**"He said that you should be at some special school with all of the rest of the retards and freaks." **Hermione frowned. "**I'm sorry, Draco."**

**"Where's Harry?"**

Before Hermione could answer, Weasley pushed his way by me and sat down at the table. He glared at me, and I knew that our tenuous truce was over. "With Dumbledore. Where else would he be?" Ron snapped. "That's what he gets for sticking up for you all the time."

I balled my fists fighting the urge to hit him. "No one has to stick up for me."

"Whatever." Ron turned his back on me, and I had to fight the urge to drag him back.

Hermione rolled her eyes. **I'm sorry, **she signed. **Ron is just being an ass. He's afraid that Harry will be expelled, but that doesn't give him the right.**

**Why do you date him? **I asked angrily.

**He has his good side, too, **she replied. Ron must have said something about her signing without speaking, because she turned her head. **I'll catch up with you later, Draco.**

I sulked over my breakfast. Fuck them all, I thought. I didn't understand how Harry could put up with their shit. It didn't really matter to me one way or another if they accepted Harry and I as a couple.

By the time I made it to first period, the rumors were flying. Blaise repeated a few of them for me, but in the end I was glad that I wasn't forced to listen to them all. I didn't want to know what kind of trash they were spreading. Mostly, the "Harry is on drugs" theory prevailed. With half of the senior class smoking weed in Hogsmeade on weekends, I didn't see how it would be quite the scandal that it was, yet Harry was always scandalous at Hogwarts. I blamed most of the talk on Justin. He wasn't happy about getting his ass kicked in front of most of the student body. I wondered what was going to happen when…if Harry came back to classes, but Harry wasn't back by lunch. Lupin's class didn't serve as the distraction it had the day before. I kept staring at the empty seat near Weasley as other students took their seats. One thing was certain: if Harry wasn't at Hogwarts, I didn't want to be there anymore.

The day, however, didn't pause because Harry wasn't there.

**"Take your seats so we can get started," **Lupin began. **"I'm going to assume that you have all brought your assignments. Let's get to it, shall we? Who would like to begin?" **I glanced over my shoulder and rolled my eyes as Blaise's hand instantly went up. Professor Lupin smiled and stepped from behind the podium. **"Please come up and tell us what you have brought and how it inspires you."**

This ought to be rich, I thought dryly.

Blaise had a cat-who-ate-the-canary grin on his face as he took his place. When he raised his hands to sign, I had to choke back my gagging. Blaise NEVER signed in front of our classmates unless it was fairly discreet, and he wouldn't have that day if he wasn't trying to impress Lupin.

**"I brought _My Lover's Hands and Other Poems _by you, Professor Lupin."**

I turned just in time to see the color drain from Lupin's face. A strong wind could have taken him off of his feet. I wasn't the only one staring at Lupin either. Everyone's eyes were on the professor.

Finally, he managed to gather his composure. **"I think perhaps we should have a discussion about what is class appropriate. Thank you, Blaise." **He waited for Blaise to leave the podium before calling for the next speaker.

As the stir finally simmered down, class actually proved to be interesting that day. Lupin honestly paid attention to what everyone had to say. I kept glancing back at him to the see the feigned interest most professors managed, but I never did. Lupin's attentiveness set him even farther apart from the rest of the teaching staff, in my mind. It took a very special man to not laugh when Neville Longbottom brought up a fern that he'd been growing in his room as his inspiration.

Lupin made his way back to the front of the class. **"Inspiration can come from anywhere, as this class has just proved. Literature is just as diverse as influences that drive writers to their pens. However, just because a similar spark drives two men, that doesn't mean that everyone sees things the same way. As we continue on in this class, I urge you to remember that. Tomorrow, we begin our true study with the famous essay "Common Sense" by Thomas Payne. Class dismissed."**

I waited for the room to empty before I approached Professor Lupin's desk. From the empathetic look in his eyes, I could tell that he already knew what I was about to ask. **Professor, can I talk to you?**

**Of course, Draco, **he replied.** Let's go to my office. **

Lupin paused to asked Tonks something before continuing on to his office. The room was small and quite cluttered given that he had only been there for a week. From a frame on his desk, a beautiful woman stared at me from a black and white photo. Two shelves were nearly buckling under the weight of countless books and there were dozens more books stacked around the room. I noticed a great deal of Fitzgerald among the titles. The professor motioned me to sit. Oddly enough, he left the door wide open.

**I suppose you want to know what Harry's punishment is? **he asked wearily.

I nodded. **Harry was only sticking up for us.**

**Be that as it may, he broke school rules. While the sentiment is appreciated, his actions were out of line. I know that you two are quite close, but you do realize that I am not really allowed to be discussing this situation with you? **he prompted.

My heart sank. **But he's my boyfriend! I thought you'd understand!**

**I do understand, **Lupin assured me sincerely. **You need to understand that this is quite the predicament. I cannot grant you favors I wouldn't do for the other students. **

**Please just tell me what is going on, **I begged. **Harry's been through a lot, and I just have to know.**

For a moment, I was sure that Lupin was going to send me away. He leaned back in his chair and rubbed his temples for a moment. **Harry wasn't expelled. He will be serving a week-long out-of-school suspension, and if he is ever involved in anything like this again, he will be kicked out. Draco, do you want the best advice I have to offer?**

I nodded.

**In this world, bigotry and ignorance are nothing new and they won't go away. Learn to go on with your life, doing what you can to be a positive example. Violence solves nothing. Anger solves nothing, **he told me firmly. **Draco, you are going to have to be thick-skinned. And so is Harry.**

**Why can't things be easier?**

Lupin smiled. **Gay, straight, deaf, or hearing: life is never easy.**

I walked around that day like a zombie. Hogwarts just felt drained without Harry there. At dinner, my eyes kept drifting to his vacant spot at the Gryffindor table. Blaise tried desperately to draw me out of my shell, but I simply felt lost. Nothing was shaping up the way I had planned this year. It made me wonder what could possibly be next for us.


	16. Chapter 16

I have started a new Yahoo group. If anyone wants quicker updates and info on my stories, you can join and I will try to keep things rolling there. Please, keep in mind that this is an age restricted group, and I will only approve members with an an age of 18+. I require an age statement to join. I will set the link as my home page.

Chapter 16

No matter how much you want things to be perfect, you have to learn to accept reality as it is. That was the first lesson I learned that year. Some wounds go too deep to be healed in one summer, if they ever can be healed. Harry's suspension made that fact even more clear. Still, I wanted Harry for who he was.

Harry's return to school was heralded by the usual gossip. A drug addiction seemed to be the prevailing theory behind Harry's odd behavior. And then came the not-so-usual gossip; it seemed that there were whispers about Harry and I being gay. It was exactly the kind of talk that I had been expecting…and fearing all along. Even though I wasn't surprised, I was nervous. Being out was a frightening prospect for me. Blaise did his best to keep the talk to a minimum, but that didn't mean that there still weren't rumors flying around the school. Though there were a bare few gay students at Hogwarts, the upper-class conservative crowd ruled the school. If either of us ever confirmed the rumor, it would mean complete social suicide. And then there was my father. I couldn't even imagine the hell he would make my life if he knew that I was gay. Malfoys aren't queer.

The day Harry came back to classes, I was already in chemistry by the time word got to me. Apparently he had spent the morning in Dumbledore's office with Sirus and his therapist. Blaise had his ways of finding out about that sort of thing. On my way to lunch, I cut through the courtyard, hoping to catch up with Harry.

Professor Lupin was seated on one of the stone benches with a book in front of him. He looked uneasy. I could tell by the set of his mouth that his mind wasn't on the page. On a whim, I tapped him on the shoulder.

He smiled at me. **Hello, Draco. How are you?**

**Good, **I replied half-heartedly.

**Waiting for Harry?**

I nodded. Glancing around the courtyard, I looked for anyone—namely Snape—who may know enough sign to understand what I wanted to ask. **Can I ask you something?**

Lupin put his book aside. **Draco, if you ever have any problems, you can come to me. You…or any student. My door is always open, as they say.**

My hands felt sluggish. Professor Lupin was the first openly gay man I had ever really talked to, and I knew I must seem like an idiot child. **Do you think Harry and I are obvious?**

He laughed. **More than you realize. **

**I don't want to be. ****I don't want to deal with ****people knowing**** yet. Does that make me a bad person?**

**No, **he answered sincerely. **It makes you normal. You're still young, but there can be some very adult and very real consequences with coming out. Don't let anyone tell you that you have to be out before you are ready. I knew your father in school, and I don't imagine coming out to your family will be easy. **

At his mention of school, I cocked my head curiously. **What house were you in? **

He proudly made the sign for "lion house." **Gryffindor. **

**When did you graduate?**

**1978. Same year as your father and Harry's father. **

The wheels in my head began to turn. **What about Professor Snape?**

**Yes. It seems my class hasn't left Hogwarts very far behind.** Lupin frowned, and looked away. He pointed to where Harry was standing. **I will see you both in class.**

**Thank you, professor. **

I stared at Harry for a long time. He looked much the same as he had a week ago, but I could see that something about him was different. Once again, he had changed into someone entirely new. The sad smile on his face was enough to make feel like breaking down.

**"Did you miss me?" **he asked.

All I could do was nod. I had missed him more than he could possibly know– more than I think he could understand, yet I never knew what to expect these days.

**"I have to go finish getting all of my assignments. Meet me in the usual place?" **

**Ok. Are you actually going to talk to me this time? **I demanded.

Harry shrugged. **"I don't know what to say."**

I looked away for a moment. The truth was, I didn't know what to say either. We were becoming distant, and I wasn't quite sure how to bridge that gap just yet. It made me nervous. When I looked back at Harry, I did my best to banish those kinds of thoughts. **"Just be honest. Is that too much to ask?"**

**No. **Harry touched my shoulder gently. "**I really have to go. I'll see you later."**

In Lupin's class that day, I fidgeted anxiously. I wasn't particularly interested in what types of writing were prevalent in colonial America. I wanted classes to end quickly so that I could finally get to talk to Harry in our room. There were so many things that I wanted to ask him…even though I knew that I really didn't want the answers. To keep my mind from delving too deep into my problems, I began to doodle on my notes.

At first, I would scratch out a few stick figures in the margins as Professor Lupin wrote notes on the board, but then I began to write little phrases and lists. Before I knew it, I was looking at the answer to our great mystery. SS. RL. SB. I jotted down the initials a few times before things started to make sense to me. Severus Snape. Remus Lupin. Sirius Black. I felt the air leave my lungs. How could I not have seen it before! Lupin was the link that connected it all. Snape and Sirus both knew sign because of Remus Lupin. The revelation was almost too much to take. I stared in shock at the man teaching class. I had trouble picturing him sneaking off into the corridors with either man. He was too "good" for Sirius, and—well, I had problems thinking of Snape being romantically involved with anyone. Still, it all made sense now.

The object of my musings frowned at me. "**Draco, may I see your notes?" **he asked.

My first instinct was to say no, but that wouldn't help me. I handed him my notebook feeling like I just might throw up. **Sorry, Professor.**

Lupin looked a bit taken aback by my scribbles, but said nothing. **"This is your first warning, Draco. Pay attention….Now, back to the Puritans."**

I sank back into my seat feeling relieved. Maybe, I thought wishfully, he hadn't seen the names on the page after all. It was plausible that he had only noticed the stick figures. I prayed that he didn't realize that I had figured it all out.

That night, Harry beat me to the room. He was seated on the couch with a sketch in front of him. I took my spot beside him, and slide my notebook into his hands. It had taken me all afternoon to decide whether or not to give it to him, and in the end I had decided the secret was too good to keep to myself. Harry's brows shot up.

**"I already know," **he replied giving the book back.

Rage seeped through my veins. **"YOU KNEW?"**

Harry nodded. "Sirius mentioned something about it a few weeks before school started."

**"Why didn't you tell me?" **I demanded. **"Why don't you ever tell me things? I have to beat things out of you practically or stumble across them second hand. Why?" **Suddenly, this was about much more than just the Marauders.

I saw so many things in those green eyes. Love and confusion, but mostly, I saw fear written there. **"I swore I wouldn't tell anyone, and I knew you'd figure it out on your own," **he answered avoiding the real questions.

**"What else did you swear not to tell me?" **He reached out to touch me, but I angrily swatted his hand away. I couldn't stop the anguish from spreading across my face as I pulled away from him. **"Is this even worth it to you?"**

Harry nodded slowly. **"I don't know how to prove that to you."**

**"Talk to me. That's all I've ever asked from you."**

**"What if the things I say scare you the way they scare me? I don't want to lose you," **he told me somberly.

I closed my eyes and took a long breath. When I looked at Harry again, he was still waiting for my answer. I knew he wanted me to say that I would never leave. In all honesty, I wasn't sure that would be the truth. For so long, I had been counting on Harry getting "better," suddenly feeling alright again. But this was reality: it was going to be a long time before Harry was over all of this– if he ever would be.

I didn't trust my voice. **You promised me that you'd try, and that is all I can do. I want to try.**

Perhaps that was enough, perhaps it wasn't. I don't think Harry knew the answer to that either. Pools of emerald sadness stared at me for what seemed like eternity. Then, Harry began to very slowly pack away his things. Neither of us said another word as he left the room.

I sank into the lumpy cushions and cried.

A few hours later, I appeared red-eyed and heartbroken in the Slytherin common room. I didn't really care what people thought. I was too drained to notice Blaise until his hand was on my shoulder. He tried to cheer me up, but I wasn't in the mood. I simply went to bed.

The next morning was a Saturday, so I slept in deliberately. I didn't want to wake up and deal with Blaise or anyone else. With everyone at Hogsmeade, I was free to mope as much as I pleased without any interference. I spent most of the morning reading the assignment for lit class. It wasn't entertaining, but it did keep my mind from all of the things I was avoiding. After a while, I got bored enough to check my email, and that was when I found it.

_To: Dragonrider_

_From: Rangerfan16_

_Subject: none_

_Draco,_

_I'm really sorry about tonight. I know I've already asked too much from you, but would you please forgive me? I did promise to try, and I know that I haven't really lived up to that._

_Everyone wants me to __talk – to __tell them everything about what I'm feeling and what's going on in my head. I know you think that I'm just doing this to you, but I'm not. Half the time I don't say anything in my therapy sessions. I just sit there. I don't know how many times I can tell that cunt of a shrink the same things over again. And you…well, I just don't know what to say. _

_I love you. That's the only thing that makes sense to me. What doesn't make sense to me is why you love me. I know you've told me again and again, but it doesn't seem real to me. It's almost like I'm having some sort of __delusion.__ When you first came to school, I used to daydream about you all of the time. You always looked like you were in your own world, and I wanted to visit you there. I thought that I could suddenly gain your strength if I just got close, but here I am and I'm still the same weak fuck up that I've always been. _

_I get tired of hearing my own thoughts. It's weird to me that someone else would want to know what I think. My thoughts are so disjointed most of the time that it is hard to put them to words that someone else would understand. Things have always been that way for me. I see the world like puzzle pieces, only things don't always belong. I find tiny bits and clips of beauty in odd places, and I try to capture it and keep it safe from the rest. I can get lost there until I realize that I don't belong. _

_When you ask me what's wrong, I don't know how to tell you that __**I'm**__ what's wrong. I can't be what people want from me. Sirius wants me to be strong and wild like my father. Hermione and Ron want me to be the perfect friend. The professors want me to be the good student. The rest of the school wants me to the hockey god. I'm not any of those things. I'm just what's left. _

_I think about what it must be like to be nothing. A lot of the time, I don't want to see or feel or hear. I want to fade away into nothing. I used to cut myself when I first came to Hogwarts. What are a few more scars when your body looks like mine? __I would let __the blade slice on through the scar tissue, and __I could feel __the blood coming out. It didn't hurt at all. It felt like fading. Sometimes, I can still imagine myself bleeding. I want to lie in a bathtub and let myself bleed to death, but then I think about you. As fucked up and conceited as it is, I know you'd miss me. _

_I never want to cause you any pain if I can stop it, but I know that I hurt you all the time. I hate myself for that, and I wish I could fix it. Please let me try._

_I'll be waiting in the room._

_Harry_

I felt new tears sliding down my cheeks as I turned off the computer. Would he still be there? I was afraid to find out, but I made my way to the room.


	17. Chapter 17

Again, I am unbeta'd still. Silentquill has been busy and I am trying to go ahead without her for now (sobs a little). I would like to ask if there is anyone willing to be a temporary beta for me until I get caught up? Also, **MY YAHOO GROUP IS FOR 18+, IF YOU ARE UNDERAGE I AM NOT WILLING TO LET YOU JOIN!**

Chapter 17

If I believed in God, I would have thanked him every day after for the simple fact that Harry was indeed waiting for me that day. I found him asleep on the couch with his head slumped against the armrest. His hair was nearly standing on end and his cheeks were pale. I had the sneaking suspicion that Harry hadn't been in his dorm for long last night, and I felt instantly guilty for sleeping so long. Sliding off my shoes, I settled onto the couch beside him.

Bleary eyed, Harry looked up at me. **"Draco, I'm sorry…" **I took hold of his hands before he could continue.

"Shhh…" I said softly. "Sleep and then we'll talk."

Harry smiled. His smiles always said so much, and this one told me that he was as relieved as I was for this all to be behind us—it also told me that he hadn't expect it. Finally, he nodded.

The two of us curled onto the sofa, and before long Harry was sleeping. I wasn't the least bit tired, but I enjoyed watching him sleep and feeling him in my arms. Harry looked so very peaceful that it was hard to imagine him hurting himself like he had talked about. God, how I wanted to keep him safe like this always. But I couldn't, could I? Harry was going to wake up, and he was going to face his demons once more. What could I do? Be there, pure and simple. I kissed Harry's forehead. He smiled in his sleep, but this smile said only that he was happy.

Harry didn't sleep for very long. His eyes fluttered open only an hour after we had laid down. "I guess I don't have to ask if you read my email," he said.

"Smart ass," I teased aloud. The one drawback of sign being that I would have had to have disentangled myself from him, and I wasn't ready for that yet. "I read it."

"And?" Harry prompted with worry in his eyes.

I swallowed hard. "I wouldn't just miss you, you know. I think a part of me would die with you, if you ever did something like that. My God, Harry, how can I show you what you are really worth? Would you believe me if I did show you?"

My questions seemed to give him something to think about, and I could see him begin to contemplate it all. "I don't think I would believe you," he agreed eventually. Harry sat up, and I was forced to as well. **"I love you, but that doesn't make the bad things in my life go away. Things happened to me before you came in to the picture. No one ever told me they loved me before you did. I'm sure my parents did, but I don't remember them. I don't know what I'm supposed to do. It's not that I don't want to try…"**

I nodded. **"I love you. I guess, I will just have to be more patient from now on," **I told him sincerely.

To say that things were better for Harry and I after our little spat would have been the understatement of the year. True, it took tears and one long email, but we were well on our way to being a content couple. That isn't to say all of our problems disappeared into nothing. As I think I've mentioned before, there was very little chance that Harry could ever magically forget all of the past. Still, we were happy.

Harry and I spent most evenings hiding away in our little room. I would study while Harry would work at filling this year's sketchbook. Somewhere along the line, Harry put a small CD player in the room. I didn't notice it at first, but one night I saw him change disks. Music wasn't something that I thought about much. I was familiar with the hum beneath my fingertips that usually signaled that Blaise had cranked his stereo to full volume, and I sometimes caught music videos at the end of my shows on MTV, but that was where my experience with music left off. Suddenly though, I was curious. I put my fingers on one speaker for a moment. Normally, I could tell the rhythmic thump of rap music from other kinds. Harry—as I had already guessed—didn't listen to rap.

**"What are you listening to?" **I asked finally.

I could see the wheels moving in Harry's mind signaling that he had no idea how to sign the band's name. It took him a minute, but eventually he gave in and finger spelled "**Dashboard Confessional."**

I nodded. **"Are they your favorite band?"**

Harry shook his head and handed me a CD from his bag. On the cover, a man held onto a trapeze bar with his teeth and "Our Lady Peace: Clumsy" was written on the front. I began to flip through the lyrics, and the title "Superman's Dead" caught my eye:

Do you worry that you're not liked  
how long till you break  
you're happy cause you smile  
but how much can you fake  
an ordinary boy an ordinary name  
but ordinary's just not good enough today

alone I'm thinking  
why is superman dead  
is it in my head  
we'll just laugh instead  
you worry about the weather and  
whether or not you should hate

are you worried about your faith  
kneel down and obey  
you're happy you're in love  
you need someone to hate  
an ordinary girl an ordinary waist  
but ordinary's just not good enough today

doesn't anybody ever know that the  
world's a subway...

Somehow, the words reminded me of Harry. I put the CD back in Harry's bag, and I looked over Harry's shoulder at the unfinished drawing in front of him.

I watched him add the finishing touches to his latest sketch. Harry's work was becoming more and more abstract these days. He no longer stuck to the classic portraits that I had seen so often. This one was nothing more than a vague male form covered in shadows. His face was somewhat distorted, and his limbs were sticking out at odd angles from his skeletal frame.

**What's with this? **I asked with a frown.

Harry shrugged. **"Dr. Cole wants me to try expressing my feelings through my art. I've done a bunch of them."  
**

I had only recently learned his therapist's name, so the fact that he was telling me what was going on in his sessions was a surprise. Nodding, I decided to see if I could push for a little more. **"So what feeling is this?"**

**Shame. **Harry abruptly closed the book, and I knew that was where he was drawing the line. There were still places he wouldn't let me in. I guess you could say that I was learning to accept that. Just as my deafness was something that Harry simply had to accept, I had to accept his physical and emotional scars. This was simply us.

I found my gaze drifting to the wall as Harry packed up. I touched the carved initials lightly. **"You never told me anything about the Marauders."**

**"Believe it or not," **he said,** "Sirius didn't say too much about it. He said that they gave each other nicknames. My dad was Prongs, Sirius was Padfoot, Dr. Lupin was Moony, and some guy named Peter was Wormtail. He said that they pulled pranks and stuff like that. Even though he didn't say it right out, I know he dated Professor Lupin in high school. Tonks said something about Lupin being with Snape by accident once."**

**Wow**, I said leaning on the back of the couch. **"So your dad used to come here."**

Harry smiled. **"I know. It's kind of cool thinking that I found this place."**

**"Almost like fate," **I added. I kissed Harry's cheek. **"We had better go soon. Tomorrow's a Hogsmeade day."**

That morning, I was up early. I sensed Blaise moving around the room making it utterly impossible to sleep. Opening my eyes reluctantly, I rolled on my side to face him. I hadn't expected him to be in tears pacing. At first, all I could do was watch. In our entire friendship, I had never seen Blaise cry. I sat up slowly.

He tried to brush away his tears. **Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you, **Blaise signed trying to seem nonchalant.

**It's time to get up anyway, **I lied. **What's wrong?**

For a second, I honestly didn't think he was going to tell me, but then he broke down. **He fucking played me! Dean and I met last night in one of the abandoned passages, and after we were done fucking, he tells me that he's dating Ginny Weasley. Then he says that he was just trying to see what it was like to fuck a fairy. Dean even had the balls to tell me that if I so much as talk to him in front of people that he'll tell them all that I came on to him! I was falling for him and all I was to him was some dumb queer to screw around with while he wooed his girlfriend. I'm so fucking stupid.**

I wanted to find Dean and beat him to a pulp. It took me a minute to figure out what to say to that. **He is an idiot and a coward. He's so afraid of what he is that he had to prove it by hurting you. Blaise, you deserve better. All I can say is that you should forget him. **I smiled devilishly. **There has to be at least a few hot fags in Hogsmeade, and we should go find them.**

Blaise laughed. **Won't you be spending your day with Harry?**

I shook my head. Harry had managed to get nailed for running in the halls the day before by Snape and would be spending the day with the school's janitor. I was actually really excited to go into Hogsmeade. I had only ventured into town once with Blaise in the dead of night. It was a quaint New England town that seemed to have escaped time by hiding in the shadow of Hogwarts. Several shops on Main Street made their living off of Hogwarts students. I had heard all about places like Honeydukes candy shop and The Three Broomsticks Café. Zonko's Toys was practically legendary in the area. Despite the name, Zonko's didn't just have toys for younger children. There were endless shelves of prank supplies just waiting to be bought. If the rumor was true, the Weasley twins actually had a line of credit there that they paid off by sending more business their way.

Blaise and I had a wonderful time that afternoon. We started off by buying candy by the pound at Honeydukes, and then we ate lunch at The Three Broomsticks. There was just something about the place that I liked instantly. Though not as infamous as Salem, three witches had been hung in town. The legend was printed on the back of the menu, and Blaise rolled his eyes at me for actually reading it over. **That is so ridiculously tacky, **he commented.

I shrugged. **Harry would like it here.**

Blaise raised a brow. **Need I say more?**

We both laughed at that.

Suddenly, Blaise stopped laughing. **I wish I had someone.**

**I thought that was going to be our mission for the rest of the day, **I reminded him lightly.

My effort brought a weak smile to his lips. **I guess what I am really saying is that I wish I had HIM.**

**I told you Dean…**

**Not Dean. Professor Lupin, **he interrupted. **I knew Dean was an asshole. I'm not going to lie and say that I wasn't hurt or that I didn't care. It's just that I look at Professor Lupin and I see everything I want in a man.**

I felt my stomach lurch, but I tried to ignore my gut feeling that this would end badly. **What? Deaf, old, and taken?**

Blaise frowned at me. **I don't mind his age, and I don't care that he's deaf. I sign, and it's not like I don't know how to deal with it. Besides, we don't even know if he really is taken. He hasn't publicly said much about it. **A dreamy look crossed his face. **He's just so passionate and creative. I mean, have you read his work? Everything he talks about in his poems is just so deep. I want to be with someone who can be like that. Someone who understands me.**

**You barely know him, **I reminded him.

**I want to change that. **The statement was so simple, but it changed so much. Up until that moment, it was possible to ignore Blaise's growing obsession but not anymore.

I looked Blaise square in the eye. **Please, don't do anything stupid.**

Blaise only smiled. **I won't, **he promised.

Suddenly, Hogsmeade wasn't so much fun anymore.


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

Our sophomore year flew. In the blink of an eye, it was time to try out for hockey once more. Harry's genuine excitement only added to my anxiety. I didn't know whether it was better to be a coward and not try out or to be a failure and not make the team. Of course, I was trying desperately not to let that little speck of hope that I might actually make the team grow. Every time Harry mentioned hockey, I felt torn. In the end, I decided to give it one more try.

For the second year in a row, I was up at dawn lacing my skates. This year there were more spots open on the team, but that still wasn't a guarantee that I would make it. I watched the first group run through the drills flawlessly. At least two of the five were sure to make the team. The second group didn't fare nearly as well. By the time my group was up, I was nearly shaking with nerves. The first drill was merely a skating exercise. Cones were set up and we were to weave our way through them as quickly as possible. It should have been a piece of cake for me. I started off well enough, but then something went wrong. I'm not sure what exactly threw me, but I found myself hurtling to the ice. Landing in an undignified heap, I knew that I would never make the team now. Picking my body and my pride from the ice, I was determined to at least finish the tryout. I never regained my composure, and I botched drill after drill. By the end, I was too embarrassed to even wait for the list to be posted.

After my complete humiliation was over, I went in search of some solitude. I didn't want to see Harry—who had obviously made the Gryffindor team. Luckily, Harry was yet again serving detention for talking back to Professor Snape, and I took advantage of the abandoned room. I threw myself on the couch haphazardly, and tried not to think of just how stupid I must have looked at the tryout. Consequently, it was all I thought about. I emerged from my self-imposed isolation just before lunch and made my way down to the Great Hall.

I was caught off guard when a hand tapped my shoulder at the Slytherin table. Riley Flynn, the co-captain of the Slytherin team was standing right behind me. "Why weren't you at the meeting?" he asked slowly.

I was sure that I had missed something. "I didn't make the team," I replied obviously.

Riley frowned. "You made it."

"What?"

"You made the team," he repeated. He pulled out an envelope and handed it to me. "Don't miss anything else."

Dumbfounded, I opened up the envelope and found a practice and game schedule as well as a paper on a clinic that would be held over next weekend with a guest appearance by one of the world's best hockey coaches, Theodore Nott. I felt my stomach sink. I knew exactly how I had made the team. My father and Coach Nott had known each other for years. No doubt my dear old dad had found a way to make sure I made the team. I wanted to scream, but instead I folded the papers up and shoved them in my bag.

I ran into Harry in the halls after lunch. He looked quite frazzled, and it didn't take a genius to figure out that Snape was the reason.

"**How'd it go?" **he asked.

"**About ten times worse than I thought it could," **I quipped.

We disappeared back into the room, and I explained exactly what had happened. I expected Harry to tell me to immediately give up my spot on principle, but he didn't. **"I'm not saying that you shouldn't be upset," **he said, "**B****ut if you want my advice, you should just earn it."  
**

**Earn it? **

Harry nodded. **"You're a good player. You deserve to be on the team even though you botched the tryout. All I am saying is that now you really have to prove that you SHOULD be on the team."**

I nodded.

In the days following, I did just that. I worked hard to be the very best player I could be. My teammates seemed to take note of my reinforced enthusiasm. Every practice was just as important to me as the games would be. I never gave up on the ice. I even took extra care to soak in every bit of knowledge I could from Coach Nott. By the time our first game rolled around, I had undoubtedly earned my spot on the team.

Riley approached me at lunch again the day before the big opener. "I talked to the rest of the seniors," he began without preamble. "We all think that you are ready to start tomorrow."

"Really?" I asked incredulously. Despite all of my hard work, I still didn't think I would actually beat out team veterans for an opening spot on the rink. Suddenly I had a sick feeling in my stomach. "This isn't because of my…"

Riley raised a hand to stop me. "That wasn't even why I put you on the team, and yes, it was my call. I've seen you on the ice against Potter. You're not as good as he is, but if you are used to going against him then you've got an edge. We have to beat Gryffindor this year."

"So I've been killing myself for nothing," I murmured irritably.

"I wouldn't say that," Riley said with a smirk. "Just don't freeze up tomorrow."

Don't freeze up. Half of my anxiety had been taken away with the revelation that my dad didn't get me on the team, but it was replaced by a new fear. What if I let my nerves get me again? This wasn't just tryouts. Instead of looking like an idiot in front of a handful of Slytherins, I would be on center ice before the whole school. People would see that I wasn't a "Potter." How could I stand to walk down the halls if I landed on my ass against the Hufflepuffs? I had enough problems fitting in as it was. Being known as a hockey fuck-up as well as a deaf freak didn't appeal to me. I had to fight back the urge to run after Riley and tell him that I didn't want to start, but one thing kept me from it: pride. I wanted to show everyone that I was a good hockey player.

That night, I wasn't sure how I would be able sleep. I had so much nervous energy that I just couldn't sit still. Harry had laughingly banished me from the Room of Requirement, and I was forced to take my jitters elsewhere. At first, I made a short attempt to actually socialize with the other Slytherins in the common room, but at the first sign of a speech reading-induced migraine, I decided to move on. I knew that I could always catch up with Hermione in the library if I felt like studying, and that Pansy would play horse with me in the gym if I asked. Somehow, neither option appealed to me. Finally, I decided to kill some time on my computer.

Blaise was in his usual spot on the bed when I came back to our room. He had taken to scribbling his own attempts at poetry into a small, leather bound book. Though he'd only let me read one or two, it didn't take much to realize that the majority of them were about Lupin

When he spotted me, he pulled himself up against the headboard. **"Get tried of spending time with Harry?"**

I smirked. **Really. You think I could spend all of my time with a Gryffindor?**

"**I could," **he said dreamily. **"An older Gryffindor that is."**

I rolled my eyes. **You need to start meeting guys under twenty-one.**

**"What's the point? Guys our age are only after one thing. They don't try to really find love," **Blaise insisted.

**I guess you're right, **I replied blandly. I no longer bothered to disagree with anything he said about Lupin.

Lately, I had been avoiding Blaise. I hate to say it, but as he drew back into his shell, I did nothing to stop him. I wasn't the only one to see him fading, either. The once constant party invitations and camaraderie had come to a screeching halt. He had made it clear to one and all that he was no longer going to be "that person." His former friends gave up on him. After my first attempts to drag Blaise back into the social swing, I gave up, too. Blaise was no longer the larger-than-life character that he had been before. It was as if he had drowned himself in Lupin's words. I wasn't sure how to pull him back to the surface.

**"Will you be there tomorrow?" **I asked both aloud and in sign. I hoped both would better convey exactly how much I wanted him there.

**"Wouldn't miss it."**

The next afternoon, I suited up in the Slytherin green jersey for the first time. My hands were sweating beneath the bulky gloves as I skated to my position at right wing. I could feel the blood coursing through my veins. I cast a nervous glance to the stands and found both Harry and Blaise sitting in the stands cheering me on. _At least, _I thought darkly, _they won't hate me if I mess up._ Before I set myself, I felt a hand on my shoulder.

Riley stood beside me. He'd pulled off his helmet so that I could read his lips. "Relax. You're a good player," he told me with an honest smile.

Between the mouth guard and my imperfect speech, I didn't trust myself to say anything. I gave him a firm nod.

Less than two minutes later, everything would change.

I was not a good player that game. I was a great player. For one brief time in my life, I felt as I had always thought Harry would on the ice: Like a hero. I was weaving through Hufflepuff players so quickly that the defense didn't have a chance. By the time the first period was over, Slytherin was up by three. That is not to say that we went unchallenged that day. Hufflepuff rallied in the second period holding us to a two point lead. The team's captain, Cedric Diggory was almost as quick as Harry and managed to score once in the third. In the end, it didn't matter. Slytherin was victorious, and I was now the reigning hero of a house that had thus far ignored me.

Housemates who had never once acknowledged me were now crowded around me. Most of the time, I missed out on what they were saying, but it didn't matter. All of the welcoming smiles and pats on the back were enough. Though I had told Harry I would meet him in the Room later on, I found myself in the Slytherin common room. Some of the seniors had dragged me onto the couch with them and passed me a suspicious smelling bottle of Coke. I wasn't stupid enough not to realize what was in there. I was, however, stupid enough to drink it anyway. I didn't want anything to spoil this night. I was finally being accepted. As the liquor spread through my veins, I came to a sort of giddiness and I began to think about what had just occurred. For the first time since I had gotten off of the train, I was finally making a name for myself. From now on, I wouldn't be just the "deaf kid" or "Lucius Malfoy's son." I was Draco Malfoy, the best player Slytherin had.

Only one thing was missing: Harry.


	19. Chapter 19

**Author's Note**- For those of you who don't know, I am a new Mommy. My pregnancy was extremely rough and my daughter was born premature with some health problems. Fanfiction has been the least of my concerns. I really do appreciate everyone who has read my stories, and I hope to finish them both eventually. I can't promise regular updates, but I will do what I can.

**Unbeta'ed** Chapter 19

I woke the next morning with the taste of vomit on my lips and a raging headache. My stomach lurched as I rolled out of bed. Hazy memories of the night before began to rush over me. I could remember how the seniors kept handing me bottle after bottle of spiked soda and how they all seemed so damned happy to have me there. I also remembered being helped to the bathroom to puke at some point, but nothing else was clear. I buried my head in my hands and tried to massage away the agony from my skull. My first hangover served as a lesson in restraint.

In my misery, I was too focused on my own stupidity to notice much else. I nearly jumped out of my skin when I felt a hand on my shoulder. Harry was knelt down in front of me with a sympathetic look and a bottle of Gatorade.

**How did you know? **I asked accepting the drink greedily.

Harry chuckled. "**You really don't remember much about last night do you?"**

I shook my head.

**Slytherin's victory parties are legendary. It didn't take a genius to figure out where you were last night. I managed to sneak over to the party last night in time to carry you to the bathroom. Blaise and I put you into bed, **he explained.

**You should have left me to my misery. God knows, I deserved it. I'm sorry for standing you up, **I told him before finishing the Gatorade.

Harry blushed sheepishly. **I kind of did the same thing last year. After my first big game, Oliver Wood practically dumped a bottle of Captain Morgan down my throat.**

I laughed and then instantly winced. **Thank you for taking care of me.**

**Go get a shower and meet me in the room. You owe me, **he told me with a smile that told me exactly what he wanted in return—something I was only too willing to provide.

After making sure that Harry made it back to the secret passage, I went back to my dorm to get my toiletries. I was eager to work on my debt as soon as possible. Even a hangover didn't make me want him less. I could already picture myself doing all sorts of fun things to Harry.

I was nearly to the bathroom when I caught sight of something very interesting indeed. It was sheer chance that I spotted them. Tucked inside a tiny alcove, I noticed a pair of lovers entwined in a kiss. Had it not been for the distinct gray and auburn combination of Professor Lupin's hair, I might have dismissed it. I edged a bit closer to the corner I was using for cover and watched as they broke apart. Professor Snape pushed a lock of hair behind Professor Lupin's ear in a gesture that was so uncharacteristically gentle that it nearly took the breath from my lungs. Professor Lupin smiled and tucked his head into Snape's shoulder. He must have whispered something to make Snape laugh. I think that was the first time I had ever seen two people truly and honestly in love. My heart instinctively tightened in my chest at the thought that someday that could be Harry and I.

I disappeared down the hall that day still thinking about what I had seen.

Hockey season had a profound effect on Harry and I. It seemed that first night of partying was only the beginning. Harry's first game against Ravenclaw took place the following weekend and was a brawl to the very end. Gryffindor barely managed to pull off the win. It was only when I was watching Harry on the ice that I truly began to think about the inevitable showdown between us. Seeing Gryffindor nearly fall to the much weaker Ravenclaw team made me realize that perhaps we really could beat them, but what would that mean? Harry was still extremely fragile, and the Slytherin-Gryffindor rivalry was bound to get pretty fierce. Would I sacrifice my own chance at glory to make sure Harry didn't start doubting himself? Just then I couldn't say, but I did realize that something had been changed inside of me. For the first time since our truce almost a year earlier, I saw Harry as competition.

That night, I told Harry that I had a headache and that he should go celebrate with his team. Instead of going straight to my room, I went straight to Riley's door.

The team captain didn't seem too surprised to see me. He opened his door wide and motioned for me to come in. I think all along that he was waiting for me to come and dish on the Gryffindors. It was a logical assumption--a very Slytherin assumption. Riley was the epitome of our house. He was the perfectly mannered, bred and groomed son of wealth with the iron streak of cunning ruthlessness who seemed to manipulate all of us with his invisible strings. I won't lie: I admired him for it.

Riley gave me a wry half-smile. "Good game, wasn't it?"

I swallowed hard and nodded.

"I really didn't think Gryffindor could pull it off. Potter is slipping," he said matter-of-factly.

"I don't think so," I replied feeling the need to come to Harry's defense.

Riley merely shrugged. "He didn't look as sharp as he used to. It must be all the anti-depressants he's taking."

My jaw dropped. "How did you...I mean, I don't think he's on anything."

"You don't really think there are any secrets in Hogwarts, do you? Everyone knows all about his little psych problems. His own housemates won't quit talking about how fucking drugged up he is. Christ, Draco, I know you can't hear, but don't you listen to any of the gossip?" he asked provocatively.

"I don't get involved," I told him flatly.

"I suppose that's the best thing to do," he replied with a grin that said otherwise.

I shifted uncomfortably and ran a hand through my hair. "So do you think we'll be able to beat them?" I asked nervously.

Instead of answering me, Riley flopped down on his bed and gestured for me to join him--which I did apprehensively.

"Most people have heard some very nasty rumors about you and Potter. I've done my best to keep certain people quiet and to stop some of it, but I can't do it all. I know that you and Potter are _close_. It can be hard to give your all against a friend, and I understand," he assured me. His smile was nothing less than ruthless as he continued, "but not everyone would understand. You see, it's more important for you to help me beat Gryffindor than you realize. I doubt certain people would keep quiet anymore if they thought you hadn't given your all for your team."

My stomach did a back flip. I knew right then what was at stake. If I didn't see to it that we won the game, Riley and the rest of Slytherin would turn on me. They'd brand me as a fag and enjoy rubbing it in my face. In that moment, I knew exactly why Riley had put me on the team. I felt sick. All of the acceptance and camaraderie I had found as a hockey player had stemmed from Riley's fucked up plans to beat Gryffindor. I hated that I had been stupid enough to fall for it. Worse, I hated myself because I knew that I would have to play along if I wanted to keep my sexuality a secret.

"I'll do what I can," muttered through numb lips.

I avoided Harry the next day. I told him at breakfast saying that I had some things to take care of with Blaise. He didn't say so, but I could see that he was hurt. I promised myself that I'd make it up to him somehow. Even then I was aware of just how selfish I was being.


End file.
